Hold Me Down
by Jordana Amore
Summary: Dark angsty Emison. Sara leaves and a very angry Emily confronts Alison.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:** **Wrote this before this week's episode (6x07) so Emily and Sara's relationship isn't where it currently stands in the show. Not that this story is about Emily/Sara, because gross, no, but it does allude to their thing together, whatever it is. Also, I know a lot of people think Alison and Emily slept together in 5x05 but for the sake of this particular story, let's say they didn't quite get that far then.**_

 ** _For now I'm going to say this is a one-shot because I'm horrible at updating and completing my own stories. So technically this can stand on its own, but if I feel compelled to do so, I might add a few more chapters later on. Anyway, this is a bit dark, Emily in particular is pretty dark here, which I personally enjoyed writing because she's normally so sweet._**

 **::Edited to add Trigger Warning for non-con elements::**

* * *

Alison stands in front of her dresser, neatly tucking her freshly folded laundry into various drawers, when Emily barges into her room.

"Gees. Knock much?" Ali says, whirling around to look at the intruder.

Emily's face is dark and angry and Alison wonders what she could have possibly done now to piss off the brunette.

"Sara's gone!" Emily shouts at her.

"What?" Ali asks, setting down the pile of clothes in her arms to devote her full attention to her scowling friend.

"Sara," Emily clarifies, making her voice low and her words deliberate. "She left. Because of you."

"I don't even know Sara," Alison says dismissively, her hair flipping over her shoulder as she turns away from Emily in a huff. She does not appreciate Emily barging into her room and making ridiculous accusations against her, especially since Emily has barely spoken to her in weeks. Ali had tried to reach out to Emily a bunch of times since she and the guys had rescued the girls from the dollhouse, but the brunette has been avoiding her calls and texts. She didn't know what she had done to earn Emily's previous silence or her current wrath, but being shut out by her one-time best friend hurt more than she cared to admit.

Emily inches closer, her eyes fixed on the back of the blonde's head."Well, she's gone now. She went home to her alcoholic mother because Hanna and her big mouth told her I was only with her because I couldn't have you."

Alison looks shocked but somewhat pleased at the thought of Emily still wanting her. She turns back around to address Emily, failing to keep the hint of a smile off her face. "I don't know what you want me to say, Em. I didn't even know you two were together, it's not like you talk to me anymore, but I certainly did not have anything to do with her leaving."

"We're not together anymore. Because she thinks I'm using her as some sort of Alison DiLaurentis stand-in, just like your sick twisted brother did," Emily says sharply.

"Hey, watch it!" Alison warns, her temper flaring at the mention of the troubled older brother she never knew.

For a second the anger in Emily's eyes is gone, and in its place Ali can see that heart-shattering look of disappointment she's all too familiar with.

"Why do you have to ruin everything for me, Ali? Why can't you just let me be happy?" Emily asks, her voice straining with unshed tears.

"Of course I want you to be happy, Em. That's all I've ever wanted," Alison tells her sincerely.

"You're a _liar_. You want me to be miserable like you," Emily snarls back, easily finding her anger once again. "Well, too bad because I deserve to be happy and I'm going to find Sara and tell her that you mean _nothing_ to me."

Alison sighs in frustration. "What is it with you and this girl? You barely know her, yet Spencer told me you've been blowing them all off to cater to Sara's every need."

Emily straightens up defensively. "I'm being supportive. She's been through a lot. She needs me."

"Or do you need her to focus on so you don't have to deal with your own shit?"

"Shut up," Emily growls.

"Oh, struck a nerve, did I?" Alison asks, her trademark smirk appearing for a moment before she slips back into a more neutral expression. "Is Sara even capable of being in a relationship with you right now? She seemed pretty messed up from what I saw."

"Shut up! You don't know anything about her," Emily snaps.

"I know she needs help. Real professional help. And she's not going to find that help in your pants, Em," Ali says.

" _Fuck you,_ " Emily bites out, her jaw clenching and her eyes narrowing into angry slits. She's so angry she's almost unrecognizable to Alison.

Alison steps closer to her angry friend and speaks softly. "Is it true? What Hanna said? That you were only with her because you can't have me?"

"I can have you," Emily says darkly, her eyes fixed on the blonde.

Alison raises an eyebrow at that, a hint of a smirk crossing her face before she sighs and crosses her arms over her chest, deciding this conversation isn't going anywhere good tonight. "Look, I'm sorry your girlfriend left but I had nothing to do with it. And I'm not going to stand here and let you blame me for something I had nothing to do with. Just go home, Em."

Emily remains unmoved, glaring at Alison from her spot in front of the bed.

"Or stay here and stare at me," Alison mutters dryly. She rolls her eyes at the brooding brunette before turning back to her dresser. She gathers up a pile of clothing from atop the dresser and starts to walk towards her closet to put them away. As she brushes past Emily, the swimmer grabs her arm and spins Alison to face her.

"What the hell," Ali cries out as the clothes tumble to the floor. "Now I'm going to have to re-fold those!"

Emily cuts her off with a hard quick kiss, pushing her hands into Ali's hair and roughly tugging her closer. "I can have you," she repeats, her voice low and threatening.

"Em, what are you..." Alison starts as she pulls away, but Emily interrupts her again with another kiss. It's rough and sloppy and dripping with desperation and Ali doesn't know what to think.

Emily's mouth is hot and hungry and her hands are still twisted in Ali's hair, tugging possessively as she circles Alison's tongue with her own. Emily breaks the kiss suddenly, dropping her hands to Ali's hips, turning them both and pushing Alison onto the bed with a grunt.

Alison falls back onto the mattress and props herself up on her elbows, looking up at her friend in a disoriented daze of dread and desire. "Emily, stop. Hold on. You're upset. Let's just talk about this."

"I don't want to talk," Emily tells her, climbing onto the bed and straddling her. "I want to fuck you."

Alison's eyes widen and her throat goes dry at the harshness of Emily's words and the weight of the swimmer's body over hers. She's never seen Emily like this, so angry and aggressive, and she can't quite decide if she feels degraded by Emily's words or incredibly turned on by them.

Emily eyes peer down at Alison like she's a predator marking her prey, her hands sliding under the blonde's shirt and squeezing greedily. Alison lets out a soft moan as Emily's hands cup her breasts over her bra.

Ali clears her throat, trying hard not to respond to Emily's touch. "Em-Emily. I-I don't think this is a good idea."

Ignoring Ali's protests, Emily grabs at the bottom of Ali's shirt and yanks it up over her head, tossing it on the floor behind her carelessly.

"I don't care what you think. For once, I'm going to use you," she says, leaning in to kiss Ali hard on the mouth. She trails her lips down the valley of Ali's breast and to her stomach.

Ali's breath hitches and her insides flip as Emily's teeth scrape against her stomach. She wouldn't mind Emily getting a little rough with her under different circumstances, in fact she finds Emily's forwardness kind of hot, but she doesn't want to be used. She was done using people and she was done being used. She wants to tell Emily to get the hell off of her, that she isn't going to let her use her like this, but Emily's mouth is hovering above her waist and she can't bring herself to utter the words.

Alison feels Emily tugging at her jeans and her stomach twists into knots. This feels wrong. This isn't how it's supposed to be with Emily. It's supposed to be slow and sweet and Alison is supposed to savor every moment of it. She closes her eyes and thinks of that night all those weeks ago, before prison and before the dollhouse, when Emily had kissed her softly, lovingly, in this very bed.

Once Emily has rid Alison of her jeans, she stands and pulls her own shirt over her head before pushing her shorts down to the floor and stepping out of them.

Alison swallows at the sight of Emily in just her bra and panties and moves back on the bed, welcoming the brunette as Emily settles between her legs.

Emily buries her head in the crook of Ali's neck, biting the soft flesh hungrily.

Ali cries out in pain as Emily starts to suck on the spot her teeth marked. "God, Em," she breathes out. She leans up and cups Emily's face in her hands, trying to capture the brunette's mouth in a kiss, but Emily pulls her head back and grabs Ali's wrists.

"I'm in control," Emily says, pinning Alison's hands beside her head and rocking her hips against the blonde's.

"Okay, baby, you're in control," Ali agrees with a moan.

Emily presses Alison's wrists further into the mattress. The pressure of Emily's hold is painful for the blonde and Ali whimpers in response.

"I wasn't looking for your approval," Emily snaps harshly as she continues to roll her hips against Alison's. She gives Ali a warning glare before she releases one of the girl's wrists and slides her hand down between their bodies. Ali shutters as Emily's fingers graze her panties. "Mmm. So wet," Emily whispers.

"For you, Em, all for you," Alison says, her voice thick with arousal and her blue eyes full of desire.

"You want me to fuck you, don't you, slut?" Emily growls as she pulls Alison's panties down. "I don't know why I ever expected anything more from you, this is all you're good for."

Alison frowns in confusion as the knot in her stomach tightens and the ache in her chest deepens. The words sound wrong on Emily's lips. Her sweet Emily was not supposed to be saying such ugly things to her. She didn't like it. She had to stop this. "Em, wait."

Emily slips a finger into Alison and the blonde slams her eyes shut.

"Fuck. Em, baby," Ali gasps, momentarily forgetting how badly Emily had made her feel only a few seconds ago.

Emily adds another finger and starts moving in and out of Alison quickly. " _Shut up_. And I'm not your _fucking_ baby."

Alison tells herself she wants this, always has, even if this wasn't how she had pictured it. Maybe this is what it'll take to even the score between her and Emily. Maybe Emily will forgive her if she lets her do this, lets Emily use her like this. Besides, if anyone deserved to be treated this way, it was her.

Ali takes a shaky shuttering breath as her hands clutch at her bed sheet desperately, Emily's fingers cruelly curling inside her, the brunette's hand moving at a punishing pace. Alison tells herself it'll be over soon, Emily will be done punishing her, and then her Emily, her sweet loving Emily, will come back to her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited and reviewed. The response to the first chapter was pretty awesome so I came up with a little follow-up. Again I'm ending this in kind of an open-ended way in case I don't get around to continuing it, but I was thinking of doing another chapter from Emily's perspective and maybe a couple more after that. Let me know what you think.**

* * *

Alison's not sure how she got here. On her back in her bed with Emily's head between her legs, gasping and grabbing at her sheets. Emily's fingers dig painfully into her hips, holding her in place as the brunette's tongue laps at her core.

"Oh God, Em, please," Ali pleads, desperate for release. They've been at this for nearly an hour now and Alison doesn't know how much more she can take. Emily keeps her on edge, pulling her mouth back to smirk up at the blonde whenever Ali gets close.

"Just like a whore to beg," Emily sneers, looking up at Alison from between her thighs with a devilish glint in her eye.

Alison's chest clenches at the ease with which Emily insults her. She can't even remember the last time Emily called her by her real name and not some hurtful derogatory slur.

She knows what they're doing is wrong and incredibly unhealthy, and if anyone found out they'd surely think she was sick for allowing it, for getting off on it, but Alison doesn't care. She's convinced herself that this is how it has to be for now.

Emily buries her head back between Alison's legs and Ali's hips buck up and her body jerks as Emily finally lets her cum. Alison tries to clamp her mouth shut to keep from crying out in pleasure, reluctant to give Emily the satisfaction of making her scream after teasing her for so long, but she can't help the guttural moan that bubbles up from her throat when Emily sucks hard on her clit and sends her over the edge. With her chest heaving and her body weak, Alison relaxes against the mattress, her mind drifting to the disastrous state of her and Emily's relationship.

It's been two weeks since Emily barged into her room and accused her of being the reason Sara left, and Emily has shown up at Alison's house almost every night since. Alison feels ashamed for letting Emily use her that first night and every night that followed, but she still welcomes the brunette into her bed every night when she appears in her doorframe with that frighteningly angry look in her eye.

She had thought Emily's anger towards her would eventually pass and that they would be able to repair their relationship, but Emily has shown no sign of forgiving her and no indication that she plans to anytime soon. Each time Emily crawls into Alison's bed, her hands are rougher and her tongue sharper, and Ali can feel herself splinter and crack a little more each night. All she can do is hope that once Emily gets this, whatever _this_ is, out her system, they'll be able to put the past behind them and move forward.

Alison feels a sharp pain explode across her mouth and she jolts up in shock. Emily's hovering over her, naked and seething. Ali's tongue darts out gingerly to lick at her lips and she tastes blood. "What the hell was that for?" she demands, realizing Emily had slapped her across the mouth.

"Didn't you hear me talking to you?" Emily asks, glaring down at Alison with hard eyes full of contempt. "When I tell you to do something, do it. Don't just lay there like the useless little slut that you are," she growls.

Alison stares blankly at the girl she once loved but now barely recognizes. She wants to cry. She wants to tell Emily exactly how much she's hurting her. Beg the brunette to forgive her, to come back to her.

Emily shifts on the bed, laying back against Alison's pillow and letting her legs fall open. "Now put that lying mouth of yours to good use," she orders.

Alison takes a deep breath and moves to settle between Emily's legs. She knows she should refuse, put a stop this and try to salvage the last remaining shreds of her self-respect, but Emily's hold on her is just too strong to shake.

She's not ready to let go of the Emily she knew in the past, the Emily in her head, the Emily that kept her going while she was on the run, scared and alone. She owes that Emily, the Emily she had mistreated and misled for so long. If this is what Emily needs from her to move past the pain Alison had caused her, then the least Alison could do is give it to her. It won't be like this forever, she tells herself.

"Fuck, right there, don't stop!" Emily cries, twisting her hands painfully in Ali's hair and pushing the blonde's mouth harder against her center. "Don't you dare fucking stop."

And Alison doesn't stop. She brings Emily to climax and then sits back on her heels obediently when the brunette finally untangles her hands from Ali's hair.

She had imagined being with Emily like this so many times in the past. She had fantasied about how her mermaid would taste and feel beneath her hands, but never could she have imagined the experience would leave her heartbroken, humiliated, and hating herself.

"Do you suck dick as good as you eat pussy?" Emily asks haughtily, sliding out of bed to get dressed. "Maybe I should ask one of the cops sitting outside. I'm sure they'd know. You have always had a thing for men with badges," she taunts.

Alison knows Emily's words are just words, but they hurt more than she ever imagined words could hurt. It's like she can feel her heart shatter and her insides twist with every cruel taunt and catty dig Emily throws at her, and God, why would Emily want to make her feel so utterly worthless?

But just as the question enters her mind, so does the answer. This is how _she_ used to make people feel. This is how she used to make _Emily_ feel. And she used to _enjoy_ it too, she enjoyed making people feel bad about themselves because it made her feel better about herself. The thought makes her stomach turn and her skin crawl, and she knows she deserves to be punished for how she acted in the past, not just for how she treated Emily, but for every awful thing she ever did and every horrible name she's ever called someone, and she can think of no worse punishment than having the person she loves the most in the world treat her like garbage. But she needs to know how much more of Emily's abuse she's going to have to endure, because she's starting to realize she's not nearly as strong as she thought she was and she doesn't know how much longer can she hold on for.

"Emily," Ali starts tiredly as she watches the brunette dress. "C-can we talk?" Alison winces at the sound of her own voice. She sounds anxious and afraid and not at all like herself. When did she become this weak pathetic person?

"I don't come here to talk," Emily says, dismissing Alison's request as she buttons up her jeans and slips on her top. She had shed her clothes so quickly when she arrived that Ali had barely gotten a look at what she was wearing. She wants to smile at the familiar plaid top Emily's wearing, a top that's just so _Emily_ , but she can't quite bring herself to smile, can't even imagine smiling in Emily's presence again.

Ali sighs, feeling terribly exposed in just her bra. She gets up and grabs her shorts from the floor, quickly slipping them on before sitting back down at the edge of the bed. She can't find her tank top, Emily had practically ripped it off of her when she came in and and thrown it somewhere, so she crosses her arms across her chest protectively. Her eyes drift back to Emily but she turns away when the brunette catches her looking.

"How much longer are you going to do this for?" Alison asks quietly, shifting her eyes between Emily and a spot on her comforter.

Emily pulls at her shirt, adjusting it so it falls properly on her athletic frame. "What do you mean?"

"How much longer till you forgive me?"

Emily finds her sneakers on the floor and slips them on. "I'm over Sara. I don't care about that anymore."

"I'm not talking about her. I mean everything," Alison explains, her voice starting to waver as she gets more and more upset. "When are you going to forgive me for how I treated you before I left?"

Emily looks thrown. "I...I don't...what does that have to do with this?"

"That's why you're doing this, right? That's why you're hurting me like this?" Alison asks desperately. "To punish me for how I used to treat you?" Alison cries, unable to keep her voice even and her tears at bay.

"Alison," Emily rasps out raggedly, looking away from the hysterical blonde.

Her name on Emily's lips is like sweet music to Alison's ears and her heart aches for the Emily she's lost. "It's ok, Em. I know I deserve it," Ali says softly. "But are we ever going to move past this? Please tell me it's not always going to be like this. I... I don't know how much more I can take."

Emily staggers backwards, visibly shaken by Alison's words. Her eyes lock on Alison like she's seeing the blonde for the first time and a look of horror flashes across her face.

"Em, are you okay?" Alison asks, noticing Emily's labored breaths and anguished face. Ali thinks she can see a bit of the old Emily staring back at her. The Emily who once cared about her and who wouldn't dream of hurting her. She stands and takes a couple of steps towards Emily, unable to resist the urge to comfort the brunette when she looks so distraught.

But then Emily shakes her head and backs away from Alison like she's on fire, the emotion suddenly gone from her face. "Maybe I don't want to get past it. Maybe I like things the way they are," Emily says finally, turning and walking from the room, leaving Alison behind.

Once Emily has left, Ali curls up on her bed and cries. She doesn't think Emily is going to come back to her, not the Emily she once knew and loved. This Emily, this cruel, taunting, violent Emily has taken her place, and Ali knows she's only got herself to blame. She turned Emily into this. Pushed her till she broke and became someone completely unrecognizable. Because that's what Alison does to people. She destroys them from the inside, chips away at what makes them good and pure, and turns them into monsters like her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! Wasn't too sure how well this story would be received due to the subject matter but for the most part you guys have been incredibly supportive and encouraging so I decided to continue. This chapter is a little different since it's from Emily's POV. Hope you enjoy.** **Not too sure where I'm going to take it from here because I have a couple ideas but I'm afraid it might get worse before it gets better.**

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Emily races from Alison's house in a frenzied blur, her heart hammering in her chest and the blood rushing to her head. She pumps the pedals of her bike as fast as her wobbly legs will allow. Her bike flying through the tree-lined streets of Rosewood as her long black hair blows in the wind behind her.

When she finally reaches her house, she jumps from her bike and lets it fall to the grass carelessly. She unlocks her front door with shaky hands and runs upstairs, her footsteps pounding heavily on the staircase. Flinging the bathroom door open, she collapses onto the title and lurches forward to vomit into the toilet bowl.

She remains on her knees, her face full of tears and her body shaking with sobs as she retches up the contents of her stomach. _It's all so fucked up_ , she thinks. _She's so fucked up_.

A knock on the bathroom door startles Emily and she tries desperately to wipe the tears and running makeup from her face with the back of her hand.

"Emily, sweetie?" her mother calls from the other side of the door. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, mom, I'm fine!" she calls back, hoping her mom doesn't hear the tremor in her voice.

"I heard you throwing up, honey. Are you sick?" Pam asks. When Emily doesn't answer, her mother's voice hardens. "Have you been drinking, Emily?"

 _No. Not drinking. Just sexually assaulting the first girl I've ever loved,_ Emily thinks bitterly, and suddenly the bile is rising again as a fresh stream of hot tears run from her eyes.

"No mom. I wasn't drinking. I think it's just something I ate. I'll be fine," Emily says, the usual guilt she feels about lying to her mother easily outweighed by the utter disgust she feels over what she just did to Alison. Emily flushes at the words after they leave her mouth. It wasn't _something_ she ate that was making her sick, it was _someone_.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie," Pam says gently. "Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you. I'm good," Emily says, desperate for her mother to leave.

"Ok honey, I'll leave you be. I'll be back up to check on you in a little while."

Emily sighs in relief at the sound of her mother's retreating footsteps. The last thing she needs right now is to be comforted by her caring mother. She briefly wonders who comforts Alison when she's sick or upset. Certainly not her jerk of a father. And somehow Emily doubts Mrs. DiLaurentis was ever much comfort to her daughter when she was alive.

Emily reaches up from her spot on the floor to grab the washcloth from the vanity. She wipes at her eyes and mouth and slumps back against the tub, letting the coolness of the porcelain soothe her.

Memories of the last two weeks with Ali flood Emily's mind and she pushes her hands into her hair and scratches at her scalp, wanting desperately to claw the horrible images out of her head.

 _Ali begging her to stop. Ali begging her keep going. Ali's wrists pinned under her hands. Ali's beautiful blonde hair gripped tightly in her angry fists. Ali's gorgeous body laid out naked in front of her. Ali writhing under her hands and squirming against her mouth. Ali wincing from her rough hands and harsh words. Ali's mouth bloody and her eyes wide. Ali's cheeks stained with tears and her face contorting in pain. Ali calling out her name as she came. Ali looking up at her with a haunting mix of hope and hurt._

God, how could she do those things she did to Ali? How could she treat someone she loves so much so badly? And why the hell did Ali keep letting her?

She needs to see the blonde. Needs to apologize. Needs to grovel on her knees at Alison's feet and beg for her forgiveness. Needs to promise she'll never hurt her ever again.

But she doesn't think she can ever look Alison in the eyes again. How could she ever look at Alison again and not see those horrible images currently ravaging her mind. Not see herself using Ali. Degrading her. Hurting her in unimaginable ways.

Emily presses the washcloth to her mouth to muffle her cries as her shoulders shake with the power of her sobs. She slams her body back against the tub with an anguished cry. Again and agin till her back aches with pain from ledge of the tub smashing into her spine.

Emily thinks back to that first night two weeks ago, when she had gone to Alison's house angry and looking for someone to lash out at. Sara had left, accusing Emily of using her as a stand-in for the real Alison before she did, and it had been so easy to blame Alison because Sara was right. She was a stand-in for Alison, because the real Alison could never love Emily the way she needed her to. So Emily had latched onto Sara, assuming the other girl was safe and unable to hurt her. But just like the real Alison, Sara had left her.

Mr. DiLaurentis had answered the door when she knocked, his mouth set in a hard line and his eyes scanning the darkness behind Emily intently. While he was looking for any dangers that may have been lurking outside in hopes of protecting Alison, he had unwittingly let the biggest threat of all waltz right into his daughter's bedroom.

She can still hear Alison's voice. Soft and curious _. "Is it true? What Hanna said? That you were only with her because you can't have me?"_

Something inside Emily had snapped. After years of letting Alison wind her up, she had unraveled abruptly and violently. Sprung open like a tightly wound coil, striking Alison down in the process.

She was just so tired of it. Tired of being the victim. Tired of being at Alison's mercy. Tired of being the one who got used. The one who got played with like a toy and put back on the shelf when Alison grew bored with her. She wanted Alison to feel the way she did. To know the pain of loving someone who only seems to know how to hurt you. She wanted to hurt her. So she did. And it felt _good_. It felt good being the one in control for once. Not A. Not Charles. Not Alison. She was pulling the strings.

The feeling had been like a drug to her, soothing her fury while dulling her pain. And the high she felt was too enticing, too good to give up, so she allowed it to consume her, to keep her in a fevered trance where nothing hurt. And she kept going back to hurt Alison some more and it scares her how easy it was for her. Scares her how she didn't even think about what she was doing till Alison's weak tremulous voice had broken through her anger fueled haze earlier.

 _That's why you're doing this, right? That's why you're hurting me like this? To punish me for how I used to treat you?_

She sees the tears in Alison's eyes as the blonde's broken words replay in her mind and she presses her fists to the sides of her head, trying to push the image out.

 _Please tell me it's not always going to be like this. I... I don't know how much more I can take._

Her head throbs and her hands shake and she can't purge the sickness from the pit of her stomach no matter how hard she tries.

As her sobs break off into breathless hiccups, she curls herself up on the cold title floor and continues to cry quietly till her body wears itself out and she falls asleep.

Her mother shakes her awake a couple hours later and helps her into bed.

"I need to see Ali," Emily mutters hoarsely as Pam tucks her in and wipes her forehead with a cool washcloth.

Pam frowns at her daughter in concern. "You can talk to Alison tomorrow, sweetie. Right now you need to rest."

When she wakes up the next morning she's both glad and disappointed to realize it's Saturday. On one hand, she's grateful she doesn't have to worry about getting through another day of school when her mind is everywhere but on her studies, but then again, at least school would offer her a distraction from the horrible thoughts running rampant in her head.

It's just past noon when she finally musters up the courage to go see Alison. She had spent the entire morning alternating between pacing her room and dry heaving in the bathroom and she's feeling restless with the need to fix the unfixable.

She's supposed to meet the girls at Spencer's to discuss the latest on Charles, but she needs to stop by Alison's first. She can't imagine being able to focus on anything else until she speaks to Alison. She leaves her house with a fierce determination despite the fact that she still hasn't decided on what she's actually going to say to the blonde when she sees her. She rehearses a dozen different versions of her apology in her mind on the drive over, but nothing seems good enough. How do you apologize for doing what she did? What combination of words can she possibly string together to properly express her regret?

Just as Emily pulls up to the DiLaurentis house and gets out of her car, she spots Toby's partner Lorenzo leaving.

He jogs down Alison's front steps and smiles at her. "Hey. Emily, right?"

She doesn't answer.

"It's nice to see you again. I think Ali was just about to get in the shower but maybe if you hurry you can catch her before she jumps in," he says.

He gives her another friendly smile before getting into his car and driving off, and Emily wants to tear his head from his body and kick it across Alison's front lawn like a soccer ball. Suddenly she feels herself fuming, jealousy creeping into her veins and devouring her from within. Why did Ali need to shower after Lorenzo visited? What had they been up to before she came?

Emily reaches for the doorbell but then thinks better of it and instead tries the door knob. She's surprised to find the door unlocked and decides to let herself in. She knows Ali's dad is at work and Jason's car is gone so she walks herself upstairs to Alison's room and sits on her bed to wait. She can hear the shower running from the bathroom next door. The sound of water pounding against the shower tile mixing with Ali's soft singing calms her. Alison always had a beautiful voice but she hardly ever let anybody hear it.

After nearly fifteen minutes, Alison enters her bedroom wrapped in a plush pink towel. When she spots Emily sitting on her bed she jumps back in surprise.

"God, Em. You scared me," she gasps breathlessly, and Emily notices she does indeed look scared, not just startled, but scared.

Emily spots the bruises on Alison's naked arms and her busted lip and starts to feel sick again. She feels like someone has punched her in the stomach and knocked the wind out of her.

The guilt is too much. It rolls through her in waves, overwhelming her senses and seizing her heart in a vice-like grip and she _can't breathe._ _Can't think_ with Alison looking at her with those wide blue eyes and that worried expression on her face. And suddenly Emily starts to doubt herself, the words she had been practicing all morning dying on her lips as she stares blankly at Alison. She shouldn't have come here. She was foolish to think she could do this. What could she possibly say to Alison to make up for how she's been treating her?

She wants her anger back. Needs it to protect her. Anger was easy, anger had become familiar, anger had kept her from feeling any pain since she got out of that horrible dollhouse.

"How'd you get in here?" Alison asks after a beat, gripping the ends of her towel together tightly at her chest, like she's afraid Emily might spring forward and rip it from her.

Emily wants to laugh at Alison's irrational fear of her, but she can't because she knows it's not all that irrational. A couple of days ago Emily probably would have torn the towel away from Alison's body. Probably would have thrown it aside and pushed Alison up against the door, crashing her mouth against Alison's till the blonde's lips were bruised and swollen.

"Your boyfriend left the door unlocked," Emily says finally, trying to shake the images of a wet naked Alison pinned between her body and the door from her mind. "Some cop," Emily continues mockingly, "a deranged lunatic is after you and that idiot leaves the front door unlocked?"

"My what?" Alison asks, clearly startled.

"Lorenzo. I saw him leaving as I pulled up," she says, suddenly finding her anger again as she pictures the handsome police officer doing unspeakable things to Alison.

Ali opens her mouth to respond but Emily cuts her off.

"You're seriously fucking another cop, Alison?" The accusation rolls off her tongue easily, dripping with disgust and disdain. Emily doesn't know when it became so easy to lash out at Alison, when she couldn't even muster up the courage to defend herself against the blonde in the past, but she's finding it hard to stop now. She didn't have to think about how much she was hurting Alison when her mind was clouded with hot seething anger. She didn't have to feel the deep burning self-hatred in the pit of her stomach when she was distracted by blinding rage.

"Lorenzo and I are just friends," Alison tells her.

Emily allows the anger to build up inside her, to spread through her blood and envelop her body in a familiar blanket of rage and numbness till the shame and dread are gone.

"God! What is the deal with you and cops? Is it the gun? The handcuffs? Do you get off on fucking authority figures?" Emily asks hotly.

"What? Emily, no, that's not... I haven't... Lorenzo is just a friend," Alison says, stuttering slightly.

"Yeah, and I'm sure Wilden and Holbrook were just friends too," Emily scoffs.

Ali looks genuinely shocked for a moment.

"Yeah, I know about both of them," Emily says. She stalks over to the other girl, getting a bit of thrill at the way Alison recoils slightly when she nears. "What'd you call Wilden again? Beach Hottie? Heard he knocked you up," she taunts.

Alison's eyes flash wide with panic. "He didn't. I wasn't," she sputters out, shaking her head.

"And you and Holbrook," Emily presses on. "Well, I probably should have seen that one coming. Couldn't pass up an opportunity to use somebody and destroy their career, huh? You really are a whore, you know that?" Emily sneers.

Emily watches as Alison swallows and straightens her back.

"Holbrook came onto _me,_ " Ali says through gritted teeth. "He was _nice_ to me when no one else was. He _believed_ me. He was there when _you_ turned your back on me!" Alison shoots back, her voice rising slightly.

Emily's feels an ache in her chest as she clenches and unclenches her fists at her sides. Her anger is starting to fade and she can see the pain in Alison's eyes and hear the hurt in her voice. She doesn't want to acknowledge the blonde's anguish. Doesn't want to think about why Alison felt the need to seek comfort from a jerk like Holbrook. Can't bring herself to accept that she pushed Alison to that point.

She and the others had promised Ali she'd be safe with them if she returned to Rosewood, promised they'd be with her every step of the way, and then they had turned on her at the first sign of trouble. Made her feel lonely and vulnerable. Made her have to decide between being completely alone or seeking solace in the bed of some sleazy older detective. And of course Ali had gone for the latter because who wants to feel alone. But Emily can't let herself think about that, so she holds on tightly to the last remaining scraps of her anger.

"God, when did you become so pathetic that you'd fuck the first guy who flashes you a smile and a kind word?" Emily snaps, unwilling to let go of her anger.

"What happened to you, Em?" Alison asks softly, her eyes shiny and inquisitive. "It's like I don't even recognize you anymore."

Emily feels the tears burning behind her eyes and the lump forming in her throat. If she doesn't leave now she's going to breakdown in front of Alison and the blonde will surely end up comforting her. She doesn't deserve Alison's comfort, can't allow herself to crave it.

Emily shakes herself out of her thoughts. "I don't even know why I came here. You were right. You do deserve it."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thanks again for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing. Here's another chapter from Emily's POV.**

* * *

After failing miserably in her attempt to apologize to Alison, Emily drags herself over to Spencer's, where the girls are meeting to discuss their latest findings about Charles. She doesn't want to go, doesn't want to be a part of whatever ridiculous scheme Spencer has come up with that will certainly lead them nowhere. She just wants to forget about it all. Forget about A and Charles and the goddamn Dollhouse and Alison. Especially Alison.

"Finally," Hanna says when Emily walks in. "You were supposed to be here half an hour ago."

"I had something I needed to do," Emily mutters gruffly. She throws her friend an annoyed look and shoves past her, not in the mood for Hanna's attitude.

Spencer catches her eye and cocks her head to the side to study Emily curiously. As she takes in Emily's disheveled appearance, Spencer's lips pull into a disapproving frown. Emily can practically feel Spencer judging her but she doesn't really care and she doesn't bother to stop herself from rolling her eyes at her high strung friend. She'd like to see how fresh-faced Spencer would look after spending half the night crying on her bathroom floor.

"Hey Spence, you got anything to drink?" Emily asks before Spencer can question her.

"There's water and soda in the fridge."

"I was thinking of something a little bit stronger," Emily says pointedly and Spencer frowns in judgement again.

"Emily, it's the middle of the afternoon," Aria points out.

"Thanks, Aria. I forgot how to tell time," Emily snaps. All three girls look at her like she's crazy and she finds herself shrugging off their concern. "I have a hang over from last night," she lies. "Just need something to straighten me out a bit."

"Think it's going to take more than a drink to straighten you out," Hanna quips with a pleased grin.

"Who were you drinking with last night?" Aria asks.

Emily doesn't laugh at Hanna's joke and doesn't bother to answer Aria's question. "So Spence, do you?"

"Uh, yeah. Under the sink. There should be a bottle of whiskey behind the carpet cleaner. My parents think they're hiding it from me," Spencer says dryly.

Emily nods and enters the Hastings kitchen in search of the whiskey. She pulls the bottle from the cabinet under the sink and stands with a satisfied smile. She needs something to help get her through the rest of the day after her disastrous talk with Alison. She knows Spencer's going to expect her to contribute to the Charles conversation but she can't focus on anything except Alison right now.

The girls are discussing something heatedly in Spencer's living room and Emily hates how this is how they spend their time together now. It feels like forever since they just hung out and talked about something other than A. She wonders what it would be like not to be live in a perpetual state of fear because she honestly can't remember the last time her life wasn't in danger. But she's pretty sure her time in the dollhouse has destroyed any chance she has at feeling safe again.

"Where the hell is Ali? Isn't she supposed to be here for this?" she hears Hanna ask from the other room and her stomach drops. Alison was supposed to be here.

Emily twists the bottle cap off a little more roughly than necessary, tossing it on the counter and putting the bottle directly to her lips. She doesn't bother using a glass. If Ali is coming to this little powwow, she's going to need to get drunk now instead of later. She wonders briefly how pissed Spencer would be if she just walked out with her parents' whiskey. She'd probably have a conniption and Emily certainly doesn't need the drama. Sighing, Emily saunters back into the living room with the bottle swinging from her hand and her eyes trained on the floor.

"Okay, why don't we just get started. Alison probably flaked on us," Aria suggest after a couple of awkward minutes of Spencer eyeing Emily suspiciously and Hanna glaring at the door waiting for Alison to arrive.

"No, she's coming. She promised she'd be here," Spencer says.

"Since when does Alison keep her promises," Emily mutters under her breath, taking a long sip from the bottle of whiskey in her hands.

"You alright there, Emily?" Aria asks.

"I'm fucking-fantastic," Emily snarks, taking another swallow of whiskey. She winces as the liquid burns her throat before smiling broadly at her friends.

"I'm texting her again," Hanna decides.

"I've been texting her all morning. I had to practically beg her to come, but after I stressed how important this was she said she'd be here. And she will be," Spencer assures her friends. "She was helping Lorenzo with that Church soccer program this morning, maybe it ran a little late."

Emily's eyes go wide at the mention of Lorenzo's name. Church soccer program. Alison was helping Lorenzo with a Church soccer program. That's why he was at her house earlier, he must have been dropping her off. And that's why she needed to shower after he left, she was probably running around all morning in the heat.

She had basically called Alison a whore and accused her of fucking Lorenzo when the blonde had actually spent her morning coaching Church kids. Emily can't help but chuckle to herself bitterly at how much of a monster she's become. She brings the bottle to her lips once again and takes a large gulp before plopping down on the couch between Spencer and Aria. It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

A short while later there's a soft knock on Spencer's back door and Emily knows it's Alison. Fortunately she's had enough time to get a light buzz going and she's thankful the Hastings have expensive taste in whiskey because she doesn't think she'd be able to face Alison again sober.

Aria gets up to open the door and Alison slips inside quietly. She spares the girls only a brief half-smile in greeting before casting her eyes down to the floor and shuffling into the living room behind Aria. She takes a seat on the lounge besides Hanna, opposite Emily, Spencer and Aria.

"Sorry, I'm late," Alison apologizes softly. "Soccer ran a little longer than I expected."

"No worries. Thanks for coming," Spencer says to Alison kindly and Emily shakes her head at the girl's tone of voice. Since when is Spencer so pro-Alison.

Alison nods at Spencer before glancing up at Emily, her expression unreadable, and Emily finds herself shakily reaching for the bottle between her legs, unable to hold the blonde's gaze for more than a moment.

"Ok, so now that we're all here," Spencer starts, calling the meeting to order. "I think I found..." she trails off, catching sight of Alison looking up at her expectantly. "Ali, what happened to your face?" Spencer asks noticing the blonde's busted lip.

Emily freezes, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes lock on Alison. The blonde brings her fingertips to her mouth to touch her lip gingerly, as if she had forgotten about the cut Emily's hand had left there the night before.

"And your arm?" Hanna adds, turning and grabbing hold of Alison's arm to inspect the dark blue and green bruises that encircle her wrists.

Emily follows Alison's panic-filled eyes as they drop to inspect the finger-shaped marks on Alison's skin. She doesn't even remember leaving those but she knows she must have. She got a thrill out of holding Alison down in bed. Loved the feeling of being in control of the blonde, of keeping Alison still and at her mercy. Got off on the thought of Alison writhing helplessly underneath her as her fingers pressed firmly into the blonde's soft skin.

She can't stand to look for long and once again she's tearing her eyes away from Alison and seeking the comfort of the bottle.

Alison wretches her arm away from Hanna and twists out of her grasp. "It's nothing," she says unconvincingly, clearly thrown off by her friends' line of questioning.

"Did Lorenzo do that to you?" Aria asks, her brows creasing in concern as she leans forward to join her friends in the inspection of Alison's bruises.

"Lorenzo?" Alison repeats, sounding surprised by Aria's accusation. "No, of course not!"

Emily scoffs. Apparently she's not the only one who suspects Alison and Lorenzo have been doing more than coaching soccer and singing Church hymns together.

"Alison, what's going on? Who did that to you?" Hanna presses.

Emily watches Alison carefully as the blonde fidgets uncomfortably in her seat. She's not worried Alison will tell the other girls the truth about where the bruises came from. If there's one thing she can count on from Alison it's her shutting them all out when she's got something to hide, but Emily can't shake the sick feeling of guilt gnawing at her insides as she takes in the sight of Alison's beautiful skin marred by her hands in the harsh light of the day.

"No one. It's nothing," Alison repeats more firmly this time and Emily can tell the girl is growing flustered. She can practically see the wheels turning in the blonde's head as she struggles to find a suitable lie to appease her friends' concern. It's unlike Alison not to have a carefully crafted story prepared incase of an unwanted inquiry into her life, but Emily can't exactly say Alison has been acting like herself lately. The Alison she knows, or knew in the past at least, would have never allowed Emily do the things she's done to her. And Emily has to wonder when things got so twisted up and wrong that she's the one hurting Alison.

"No one? So you hit yourself in the face?" Hanna asks sarcastically.

Alison sighs and shifts away from Hanna. "Guys, stop. Seriously, it's not what you think."

"No, you can't let some guy smack you around. God, Ali, I never thought we'd have to have this conversation with you of all people," Spencer interjects seriously.

"Look, Ali, if Lorenzo is hurting you, you can tell us. We won't judge you. We just want to help," Aria offers kindly and Emily can't help but roll her eyes a little. Of course Alison has the others fawning all over because of a few little bruises. She thinks Alison must be loving the attention, probably gets a kick out of getting to playing the victim for once.

"Maybe Ali and Lorenzo just like to get a little rough in the bedroom," Emily suggests casually, taking another drink of whiskey before fixing her eyes on the blonde with a smirk. "I bet Ali likes it when Officer Lorenzo breaks out the handcuffs and ties her down."

"Hey, Em, you might want to slow down a bit," Spencer says gesturing to the bottle in Emily's hand in concern.

"Thanks for the suggestion, but I'm good," Emily shoots back, defiantly taking another long drink as her friends eye her warily.

Even through her alcohol induced haze Emily can see Alison glaring at her. She doesn't even know why she said that. It's like her mouth and body have a mind of their own whenever she's around Alison now. Maybe she was just hoping to get a rise out of Alison because the blonde won't look at her otherwise. And maybe she can't expel the sense of possessive jealousy she feels whenever she thinks of Alison with Lorenzo, Church soccer program be damned. Or maybe she's just turned into such a monster now that she can't pass up a chance to hurt the blonde when the opportunity presents itself.

"I'm not sleeping with Lorenzo. We're just friends," Alison says, her voice hard and angry as she tears her furious eyes away from Emily.

"Then who the hell did that to you?" Hanna demands.

Alison's eyes flick towards Emily again quickly, hurt and anger burning deep in her gaze. "No one. I..I got hurt playing soccer this morning. It's nothing. Just drop it," she orders with a familiar edge to her voice. She turns to Spencer, "now what was it you wanted to show me?"

Emily can tell no one believes Alison but they collectively decide to accept the lie and move on. They all know it's pointless to press Alison when she doesn't want to talk about something.

Spencer prattles on for forty-five minutes or so about Charles and what she and Hanna found out about his time at Radley, but Emily isn't even pretending to listen. Instead she spends the whole time watching Alison, who won't dare to look at her again.

Emily notes the far away look in Alison's eyes as Spencer talks about Charles like he's some sort of deranged psychopath and not Ali's brother, and she catches the pained expression that flashes across Alison's face whenever Hanna makes some snarky comment about her brother's mental state or her family's deepest secrets.

Spencer and Hanna do their best to get answers out of Alison but she has little to offer, insisting she's just as much in the dark about her long lost brother as they are, and Emily can see everyone growing more and more frustrated as the conversation runs in circles.

By the end of the discussion, Alison looks beaten down and exhausted and if things were different between them, Emily would be tempted to go over and offer a kind word or a warm gesture to comfort her. But things aren't different, they're incredibly messed up and Emily knows she's more than partially responsible for the defeated look in Alison's eyes, so Emily tips the bottle to her lips once again and watches as Alison takes a deep breath and stands to leave.

But before Alison can make her escape, Aria steps over to her and pulls her aside. And then Aria is leaning into the blonde and talking quietly as she slides an arm around Alison's waist and pulls her into a hug. Alison returns the hug and offers Aria a small smile and Emily can only guess what the pair are talking about, easily recognizing the compassion in Aria's eyes.

Emily can't help the pang of jealousy she feels watching the warm interaction between the two friends. She should be the one offering Alison comfort. It was always her Ali sought out whenever she could actually bring herself to admit she needed help, but now she's the reason the blonde needs to be comforted and the realization makes Emily's heart ache.

Aria flits away to join Hanna in the kitchen and Spencer moves to walk Alison to the back door, her face taking on a serious expression as she speaks to the blonde. Alison shifts uncomfortably as Spencer talks but the blonde listens intently nonetheless, occasionally offering a sheepish nod or a shake of her head in response to Spencer's lecture. Emily's eyes narrow, watching the two carefully.

After Alison leaves without so much as glancing in Emily's direction, the other girls gather in Spencer's kitchen. Spencer hands Hanna and Aria each a bottle of water but Emily waves off her offer, brandishing the bottle of whiskey instead. Spencer just shakes her head at the tipsy brunette and leans forward to prop her elbows up on her kitchen island.

"Well, that didn't go as well as I hoped. Ali knows less about Charles than we do," Spencer says with a dejected sigh.

"You sure she's not just holding out on us?" Hanna asks. "Maybe she's trying to protect her family's secrets."

Aria shakes her head. "No. I don't think so. It seems like she genuinely wants to help, she just doesn't know how."

"Can't really expect her to be focused on A when she's clearly got her own drama going on. No way she got those bruises on her wrists from a soccer ball. They were totally finger-shaped," Hanna remarks.

"But Lorenzo?" Aria asks, her voice dropping to a whisper as if she's afraid to make the accusation out loud. "He doesn't strike me as the type of guy who would do that."

"People can surprise you," Emily interjects knowingly. Her friends of course miss the true meaning behind her words.

"Right. And how much do we really know about the guy?" Hanna agrees.

"Well, she's never going to tell us the truth," Spencer says.

"Can you really blame her? We don't exactly have the best track-record when it comes to fostering trust with her," Aria adds. "We did kind of put her in prison that one time."

Spencer sighs again and take a sip of her water.

"Em, maybe you can talk to her. If anyone can get her to open up about the lowlife who's hurting her, it's you," Hanna suggests.

Emily smiles weakly, the liquor churning in her stomach. "Yeah. I'll take a crack at it." She places the half drunk bottle of whiskey on the counter. "Thanks," she says to Spencer, nodding towards the bottle. "I better get going. I'll see you guys later."

"Wait, Emily," Spencer calls out to her. "You're not driving, are you?"

Emily runs a hand through her hair. She hadn't really considered her transportation options. "Yeah. I mean, no. My car's at Ali's. I'll get it later. I'm gonna walk."

"Why is your car at Ali's?" Spencer asks, a look of confusion crossing her face.

"Uh. There was no parking in front of your house so I parked in front of Alison's," Emily offers lamely.

Spencer nods although she seems skeptical and Emily leaves before anyone can ask her any more questions.

* * *

Emily finds herself walking the streets of Rosewood till she ends up at a convenience store about a mile away from her house. She heads straight back to the freezer and grabs a six pack of the first beer she sees. When the man behind the counter asks for her ID she shamelessly flirts with him, practically shoving her breasts in the guy's face until he relents and lets her pay for the beer and leave. She finds a spot to sit in the parking lot and pops open the first bottle using the bottle opener key chain Hanna gave her. God, men were so easy, she thinks. One flash of boob and they're practically putty in your hand.

Emily's halfway through her fifth beer when a man in his thirties approaches her. She doesn't remember seeing him pull up but he's carrying a plastic bag in his left hand so she reasons he must have been inside the store already. She realizes then she hasn't been paying much attention to the time and it's starting to get dark.

"Hey sweetheart, want some company?" he offers, striding over to her with a smarmy smile.

"What I want is for you to get the fuck out of my face," she snaps at him, lifting her eyes to give him a withering glare of disgust.

"Whatever. Bitch." She hears him mutter to himself before he gets in his car and peels out of the parking lot.

Emily laughs to herself. If only he knew how big of a bitch she was. She quickly polishes off her beer and opens the last bottle with a twinge of regret. She doesn't want to stop drinking. Doesn't want to be sober enough to remember the things she's done to Alison. She wants to be able to close her eyes and not see the marks she left on Alison's smooth skin or the soul-shattering look of pain on the blonde's pretty face.

She takes a long drag from the bottle and runs her hand through her hair, pulling roughly at the roots as she tries to force herself to forget. But damn Ali for making her remember. Damn Ali for staying rooted in her head despite Emily's best efforts to wash her out with alcohol. And damn Ali for embedding herself so deep under Emily's skin that Emily doesn't think she'll ever be able to claw her out.

And Emily knows Alison is aware of this power she has over her. Has exploited it more times than Emily can count because Alison has always known how to play her. Emily remembers how much it hurt to realize she was nothing but a game to Alison. That Alison had just been using her back then because she craved the affection, because she needed to know someone loved her because she didn't know how to love anyone herself. And Emily did love her. Truly and deeply and with all her heart. But it didn't matter to Alison.

And now Emily can feel her heart breaking all over again as she replays Alison's cruel words in her head from before Ali disappeared. And she can hear Alison telling her it was just practice. That it didn't mean anything to her. That _she_ didn't mean anything to her. And she can feel the tears on her cheeks as she thinks of Alison walking away from her. Disappearing and leaving Emily to grapple with the heartbreak of losing her.

And there's that familiar feeling of anger building inside her once again. Emily doesn't understand how she can simultaneously love and hate someone so much. And she blames Alison for this. Blames her for making her feel this way. For making her head spin out of control. For pulling her emotions in a thousand different directions. For making her hurt the girl she's loved since she was fourteen years old. For turning her into a complete monster.

But the truth of what she's become is too much to bear and Emily lets the alcohol lull her back into her safety net of anger and bitterness. She decides this was probably Alison's plan all along. That Alison must be playing another game with her. Alison probably wanted Emily to hurt her. Probably goaded Emily into it without Emily even realizing because Alison is the monster, not her.

Emily puts the bottle to her lips again and thinks back to earlier when Spencer, Hanna and Aria had been falling all over themselves to coddle Alison and offer her their sympathy. Alison has been trying to get the girls back on her good side since she returned to Rosewood and now she has them eating out of her hands again, feeling sorry for her and offering her hugs.

Emily polishes off the last of her beer and tosses all six empty bottles into the dumpster in the corner of the parking lot. She's a little unsteady on her feet but she quickly rights herself. Of course everything worked out for Alison, she thinks as she leaves the now empty lot, she's a master-manipulator after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Thanks again for reading, reviewing, following and favoriting. I really do love hearing what you guys think, especially since the premise here is pretty divisive. So here's the next chapter. I've held off on posting this for a while now because I'm not really sure how it'll be received, it's kind of a tough chapter.**

 **Feel free to skip over this paragraph because it's long and rambling, but I wanted to address some things. I've gotten some reviews from people expressing concern over where this story is going, particularly about if I'm going to redeem Emily after all she's done or if I'm working towards an Emison endgame. I really don't know how to respond to those concerns without giving away the story so I won't. But remember I started this as a one-shot and my original ending wasn't exactly hopeful because the situation is so dark and bleak. Also please remember this isn't canon Emily, this is my Emily. I know Emily as we know her could never do anything like this, she's far too good and pure. But like I said in the beginning, Emily would be dark in this fic, and while I am drawing from some of Emily's real character traits (I do think Emily is prone to anger and lashing out), I'm purposely twisting them into something much more perverse and darker than we'd see on the show... because it's fanfiction and I can and I want to. My apologizes if that upsets anyone but I'm not trying to make you "root" for anyone or any relationship, it's up to you how you respond to the characters' actions or if you continue reading. But if it does upset you, then be warned that this chapter is probably the darkest yet.**

* * *

Later that night Emily bursts into Alison's bedroom, the door slamming against the wall before bouncing back towards Emily forcefully. Emily catches the door as she steps inside the room and flings it shut behind her. Alison jumps at the sudden commotion, yanking her earbuds out of her ears and scrambling to sit up on her bed. Emily's eyes are dark and wild, appraising Alison with a sinister expression. Alison can practically feel the anger radiating off of the brunette and suddenly she feels like she's suffocating in the enclosed room with the girl she used to trust most in the world.

"Well, that was quite the show you put on this afternoon," Emily accuses angrily.

Alison notices Emily is unsteady on her feet and recognizes her flushed cheeks and slightly slurred speech. She's drunk. Alison has only seen Emily drunk a couple of times before she left and back then Emily had been so young and innocent that Alison had actually found the brunette's drunken behavior, which had included unabashedly staring at her cleavage and badly singing along to Lady Gaga, kind of adorable. But Emily's not that shy sweet girl any more, she's cold and hard and quick to anger and Alison knows she's more than partially responsible for the change. And she has a feeling Emily didn't come over tonight to serenade her with an off-key version of "Bad Romance." She takes a moment to hit pause on the song currently blaring through her iPhone's earbuds and puts the device on the nightstand before taking a deep breath and turning back to face Emily.

"What are you talking about? What show?" Alison asks.

"That innocent little victim act you pulled at Spencer's," Emily says, stalking over to the bed with her eyes fixed on Alison like she's preparing to devour her.

"I didn't... they noticed the bruises. I didn't say anything," Alison stammers out, surprised by the accusation.

Alison is genuinely confused because Emily had witnessed the whole thing. Emily had seen Spencer and the others take notice of the bruises on their own, and she had heard Alison deny that anyone, let alone Emily, had hurt her, despite their friends' persistent questioning. She had done that to protect Emily, and maybe herself too, but mostly Emily. And still Emily shows up at her house vibrating with rage and making wild accusations.

"Maybe if you didn't leave marks all over my body, we wouldn't have this problem," Alison continues, her voice a bit sharper this time. Because she's sick of it. Sick of Emily barging into her room to yell at her and blame her for things she had no part in. There's plenty Emily _could_ blame her for without resorting to making stuff up.

Emily chuckles darkly, kneeling on the bed besides Alison and grabbing the blonde's jaw in her hand. She turns Alison's head slowly from side to side to inspect her battered lip. "They thought this was bad? Wait till they see what I do to you tonight," she hisses in a voice so unlike her own that Alison feels herself shudder.

"Em," Alison starts wearily, twisting her head out of Emily's increasingly tight grasp and lowering her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts.

She can feel the knot forming in her stomach and her throat running dry. She doesn't think she has the strength to handle Emily tonight, she's much too tired. Her body is exhausted from the last two weeks and her mind is still reeling from having to fend off her friends' prying questions and concerned looks earlier. She's spent the last few hours laying in bed worrying about what would happen if the others found out the truth. Would they judge her for being pathetic enough to let this go on for two weeks now? Would they blame her for pushing Emily to this point? Or worse, pity her? Would they think she deserved it and look the other way? Would they even believe her?

"Poor little Alison. Always the victim." Emily's mocking voice cuts into Alison's thoughts and Alison tries her best to keep her head up and hold Emily's heated gaze. "Why didn't you tell them how much you like it? Hm? How hard you come when I fuck you?" she asks, sliding one leg over Alison's thighs so she's straddling her. Alison swallows thickly at Emily's words as her head drops in shame. Emily is right. How could she deny wanting Emily when her body always responds to her touch.

Emily places her thumb under Alison's chin and jerks the blonde's head back up. "Poor, poor, battered Alison," Emily taunts as she slides a hand into the blonde's hair, gripping possessively. Alison hisses slightly as Emily tightens her hold and Emily smirks before tugging Alison's head back and leaning in to catch her in a dominating kiss. Emily's teeth purposely snag Alison's bruised lip and she bites down hard as she pulls back. Alison cries out in pain and Emily smiles against her mouth before pushing Alison down onto the mattress.

"How do you do it, Ali, hm?" Emily asks, trailing a hand from the center of Alison's chest down to her waist band. She pulls at the drawstring of Alison's pale blue pajama bottoms lazily. "How do you trick everyone into falling for your act?"

Alison stares up at the brunette paralyzed, eyes wide and mouth open. She feels the dread pooling low and warm in her stomach as Emily leers down at her. She knows she has to end this, has to accept that there's no coming back from this dark and twisted place they've ended up, but she doesn't know if she has the courage to live a life without Emily.

Emily's knuckles graze against the taunt skin of her abdomen and she sucks in a shaky breath, her muscles contracting under Emily's touch.

"I wasn't trying to... Agh! Emily!" Alison's feeble attempt to defend herself is cut off when Emily swiftly dips her hands into her pajamas, pushing past her panties and shoving her fingers deep inside her. Alison gasps at the intrusion and slams her eyes shut tight, her body tensing, not yet prepared for Emily.

"You're no victim, Ali. You're a lying, manipulative bitch and you deserve everything you get," Emily bites out against her ear harshly. Alison can smell the alcohol on Emily's breath as the brunette breathes hotly against her ear and the smell makes Alison stomach flip. If angry _sober_ Emily could hurt her the way she did, Alison imagines angry _drunk_ Emily will absolutely destroy her.

"Oh God!" Ali cries out in pain as Emily sharply twists her fingers inside her. She tries to sit up and push Emily's rough hand away from her body, but the angry brunette shoves her back down easily with her free hand. Emily snatches Alison's wrist away from her and continues to thrust her fingers into the blonde.

Alison's body clenches around Emily's fingers and she squirms uneasily under her weight. "Emily, hold on...p-please, slow...ow...slow down," Alison pleads. If Emily would just slow down and give her a second to adjust, to get wet, maybe she could get through this.

But Emily doesn't seem to register Alison's pleas. Instead her brown eyes stare right through her, a baleful grin on her face and a distant look in her eyes. Emily picks up the pace, her fingers slamming into Alison with enough force to rattle the headboard.

Alison winces as she grits her teeth and tries to bear through the pain. She lets out a low whimper and screws her eyes shut, unable to look at Emily's cold eyes any longer. She tries to get to the place in her mind where it's her sweet and loving Emily in her bed, but her body is tense and rigid and there's an uncomfortable pain between her legs, and an even deeper ache sitting heavily inside her chest. She can't breathe like this. Can't think. And she can't pretend this person in her bed is the girl she used to love, maybe still loves, when every thrust of Emily's hand between her legs feels like a stab to the heart. She didn't exactly want the version of Emily that had shown up in her bed every night over the last two weeks, but she had wanted Emily, and she had let her mind rationalize what they were doing so she could have her. But now she's not so sure she wants her anymore.

"Em, stop please, you're hurting me," Alison pleads tearfully, her cheeks burning in humiliation at being reduced to begging under Emily's hand. She hasn't outright asked Emily to stop since that first night after it became painfully obvious that Emily didn't care about what she wanted, but something feels different now. She doesn't know if it's Emily's increased roughness or her own crumbling resolve, but she can't take it anymore. She doesn't want to play this sick game any more.

Alison tries again to tear the brunette's hands away from her but Emily is too strong and too focused to be deterred. Alison notes Emily's steely expression and the glassy look of determination in her eyes and her panic increases, unable to recognize anything familiar in the other girl's cold indifferent face.

" _Emily,_ _stop_! _Stop it! Get off of me! Stop!_ " Alison screams, her voice hoarse with tears as she pushes against Emily's chest with her free hand.

Emily freezes, her hand stilling suddenly as her eyes widen in shock. She looks down at her hand between Alison's legs and then up at Alison's wide terrified eyes and her face fills with a look of unmistakeable horror as if she's only just realizing what she's doing. Alison takes advantage of Emily's shock and jerks her knee up and thrusts her leg out, kicking the other girl away from her so forcefully the brunette ends up tumbling off the bed. Emily lands on her backside on the carpeted floor with a soft thud, the stupefied look of horror never leaving her face.

Alison straightens out her pajama pants and scrambles back on the bed till she feels her back pressing against the headboard. Her whole body is shaking and she can't quite decide if she wants to burst into tears or throttle Emily.

"Ali," Emily stammers out, staring up at her from the floor sounding broken and breathless.

Alison doesn't answer but watches Emily cautiously as the brunette gets to her feet.

"Oh God. Oh my God. Ali, I'm sorry," Emily starts, her voice breaking off into a desperate cry. "I don't know what came over me. God, what the hell is wrong with me." She runs a trembling hand through her hair as she continues muttering to herself. "I... I'm sorry... I don't know...oh God," she trails off, looking up at Alison guiltily. She kneels on the bed and attempts to cup Alison's cheek in her hand but the blonde flinches away violently. "I'm sorry, Ali. I'm so sorry."

"Don't touch me. Stay away," Alison commands. The hardness in Alison's voice startles her. She didn't think there'd ever come a time where she'd willingly turn away a gentle touch from Emily, in fact she had been craving it since they had started this, but now the thought of Emily's hands on her in any capacity makes her sick.

"Ali, please," Emily pleads raggedly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I... there's something wrong with me."

"You should go," Alison says quietly.

Emily staggers back, like she's been dealt a powerful blow. "What?"

"You need to leave. And don't come back here. We can't do this again," Alison says more firmly. She can't let Emily's pleading eyes or pained voice sway her. She needs Emily gone.

"Alison, I'm sorry," Emily cries desperately.

"I mean it, Emily. I don't want to see you anymore. Stay away from me," Alison says. Her voice wavers despite her best efforts to sound strong.

Emily nods sadly and leaves the room.

Only after hearing the front door slam closed does Alison allow herself to break down, burying her face into her pillow and crying till her throat is raw and her eyes are bloodshot. She can still feel Emily's hands on her and still see that cold dead look in the brunette's eyes and it makes her skin crawl. She doesn't know where to go from here or how to deal with what happened, but she knows her relationship with Emily has been irreversibly damaged, that it might be over for good. And she hates that despite it all, she's actually sad about it, and she knows she'll miss Emily more than she'd like to admit.

As her sobs break off into sniffles there's a knock on her bedroom. Her heart leaps into her throat and she finds herself holding her breath and staring at the door as the door knob turns. She's terrified the person on the other end of the door is going to be Emily coming back for round two. And it breaks her heart that she's genuinely scared of Emily Fields.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get out. I actually had most of it written for a while now, it just takes me forever to go back and edit and organize my thoughts properly. This** **chapter is also from Alison's POV. The next one will be from Emily's perspective.** **Thank you again for reading and reviewing and all that. I really appreciate hearing what you all think so please don't hesitate to share your thoughts. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter out sooner rather than later.**

* * *

"Ali?" a voice calls out softly as the door knob turns.

The door opens to reveal a concerned looking Jason standing awkwardly in the threshold of Alison's bedroom. Alison shakily expels the breath she had been holding, her fear giving way to relief.

"God, Jason, you scared me."

"Sorry," Jason mutters in apology. "Are you, like okay, or whatever?"

Alison wants to laugh at how bad Jason is at this caring big brother stuff but she's far too defeated to laugh. She doesn't say anything.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jason continues after receiving no answer from Alison.

Alison shakes her head. _No_ she doesn't want to talk about it. Not now. Not ever. She wouldn't even know _how_ to talk about it because she's not sure she's even fully processed what just happened. All she knows is that she feels angry and hurt and sickwhen she thinks about it, when she thinks about Emily, and she can't seem to stop thinking about her.

Alison thought she knew what it felt like to be betrayed by Emily when the brunette had openly accused her of being a murdering sociopath and turned her over to the police, leaving her to rot in prison for a crime she did not commit. That had been a pretty hard pill to swallow, but Alison knew that, like so many of the tragedies that befell her in life, she had brought that upon herself in a way. She had been deceitful, secretive, and shady, and it wasn't surprising that Emily and the others had doubted her and assumed the worst of her. But tonight was a whole new level of hurt and betrayal and she knows Emily crossed a line they'll likely never be able to uncross.

It's not just Emily's cruel taunting words, or her forceful probing hands, or even her blatant disregard for Alison's physical and emotional well-being that Alison doesn't think she can get past, it's Emily's willingness to utterly destroy them, to demolish them beyond repair or recognition, leaving them no chance at being together, that Alison doesn't think she can ever forgive. Because despite all the pain, the anger, and the feelings of betrayal between them, Alison had never been able to let go of Emily. Even when she was gone and all she had of the brunette were hazy memories and stolen moments, Alison still held onto that hope that one day she and Emily might be able to have their happy ending.

She's endured so much to keep Emily in her life since her return to Rosewood, even when Emily had tried to push her away. She's swallowed her pride and buried her pain in hopes of eventually having a real relationship with the girl she calls her mermaid, and Emily had just thrown it all away and she doesn't understand _why_. She doesn't understand why Emily felt the need to abuse her body when she had already given it to her to use as she pleased. She doesn't understand why Emily wanted to rip her heart from her chest when it had always been hers for the taking. Alison had foolishly thought they were working towards repairing their tattered relationship, but Emily had just wanted to hurt her and she had hurt her, deeply and profoundly. And it's a whole new level of betrayal Alison didn't even know she was capable of feeling and it's too much to bear, even for her.

So, _no_ , she doesn't want to talk about it. Not with Jason, not with anyone. She doesn't even want to think about it because thinking about it makes her heart physically _ache._ And that ache is so bad, she wantsto go downstairs and take the biggest, sharpest knife she can find from the block in the kitchen and carve it out of her chest herself so she doesn't have to feel this pain anymore.

Jason looks her over in concern, his expression serious yet sympathetic. Alison knows she must look a mess and he can likely tell she's been crying but he thankfully doesn't badger her about it.

"Okay. Well, if you're hungry I picked up some takeout from Marco's. It's in the kitchen," he says finally.

Alison barely manages to nod in response. Food is the furthest thing from her mind right now.

Jason sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "Alright, I'm going to head out for the night then. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Jason, wait!" Alison calls out before he can leave, a sensation of unexpected panic creeping up on her.

"Yeah?" Jason asks, turning back around to face his sister.

"Can you... do you think you can maybe stay for a little bit? I know you probably have better things to do, but I- I don't want to go to sleep in an empty house tonight."

She doesn't even know where that came from but the words spill out of her mouth before she can stop them, and she can't help but cringe at how pathetic she sounds. She's never once wanted Jason's protection in the past, not even when she really needed it, but now all of sudden she's begging her big brother to stay home with her like she's some scared little kid. God, what has Emily reduced to her to.

She's about to tell him to forget it, to lie and say she was just kidding, maybe even throw in a catty jab about how she could never actually need him, so she won't have to deal with yet another person in her life rejecting her, but Jason clears his throat and then nods, a faint smile on his lips.

"Yeah. Sure. Come downstairs when you're ready. I'll heat up your dinner and we can watch a movie or something."

"Okay," she says, blinking slowly in surprise.

After washing her face in the upstairs bathroom, Alison goes downstairs to find her brother removing a plate of food from the microwave in the kitchen.

"You still like chicken marsala, right?" he asks.

Alison nods. She's not really hungry, in fact just the thought of food is making her feel nauseated, but she appreciates Jason thinking of her and she'll force herself to eat for his sake.

"Good. Here you go," Jason says placing the plate on the table in the corner of the kitchen. "You get started on that-and actually eat it, Ali, don't just push it around the plate like you used to do when you were a kid. You need to eat. I've noticed you haven't been coming down for dinner lately," he points out.

Alison makes a show of rolling her eyes at her brother but she's actually kind of touched by his concern for her well-being. She didn't realize Jason noticed so much about her. She hadn't had much of an appetite over the last couple of weeks and had taken to skipping meals and then sneaking down to the kitchen late at night for a snack when she couldn't sleep. She hesitantly brings a fork full of chicken to her mouth and glances up at Jason to show him she's trying.

"Ok. I just need to make a call real quick and then we can pick a movie. No girly crap though."

Alison chuckles softly and nods in concession. She doesn't really care what movie they watch, she's just glad to be out of her room, which still smells of Emily, and in the company of someone who doesn't hurt and confuse her so much.

She continues to eat her food absently while eavesdropping on Jason's phone call. He's currently in the living room and she can faintly hear him canceling his plans, telling whoever's on the other end that he decided he's just going to stay in with his sister tonight. Instantly she feels guilty for making him give up a night out for her.

By the time he comes back into the kitchen she's wrapping up the remainder of her dinner and putting it back in the fridge.

"You're supposed to be eating that," Jason says, frowning at her.

"I did. I ate nearly half. It's a big serving," she argues. She had told herself she'd eat enough to placate him but she certainly wasn't going to let herself get fat just to appease her brother.

Jason just shakes his head in disapproval. "So got any idea what movie you want to watch?"

She can't remember the last time she willingly hung out with Jason and it feels a bit weird to be thinking about movies they could watch together, but she's wanted a better relationship with her brother for a while now, since she ran away and realized that she actually missed him. She had long ago decided that if she ever got to come back home that she'd try harder with him, and although she's been home for a while now, they hadn't really spent much time together. Jason had seemed uncomfortable around her when she first returned to Rosewood, but since her release from prison, she's noticed that he's been trying harder with her. She doesn't know if it's the guilt of having played a part in her arrest, or if he genuinely wants to spend time with her now, but she'll take it either way.

She and Jason had never been that close growing up. He had always seemed annoyed by her presence and resentful of the attention she received from her parents, and she hadn't exactly made being her brother easy on him. She knew how to play their parents so they'd always take her side in an argument and she never hesitated to lord Jason's secrets or mistakes over his head to get her way. But she had harbored her own fair share of resentment for him as well. Jason had spent the majority of his teen years drunk or stoned and she resented him for being weak and absent when she needed him the most. She hated that he was never around when her father lost his tempter, or when her mother was pressuring her to be the perfect daughter, or when his idiot friends snuck into her room late at night to terrorize her during his out of control parties.

But now here he was, canceling plans to stay home with her because she was upset and trying to force feed her dry chicken marsala because he noticed she hadn't been eating. And despite the fucked up way they got here, it feels good to finally have a big brother who actually acts like a big brother. But her mind won't let her enjoy that warm feeling of sibling bonding for too long, because then she's reminding herself that Jason's only sticking around tonight because he had seen her broken and sobbing over Emily, and it all suddenly feels a little less good. Because while her relationship with her brother might be on the mend, her relationship with Emily has been completely obliterated and she feels like a complete and utter failure for not being able to save it.

Alison's brows furrow as she struggles with the thoughts in her head. Her mind keeps shifting back to Emily and she just wants the brunette to get out of her head so she could breathe a little easier and enjoy a night in with her brother. She brings her hands up to the sides of her head and rubs the palms of her hands against her temples, trying to rid herself of her toxic thoughts.

"It's just a movie, Ali, don't think so hard," Jason teases.

Alison shakes herself out of her thoughts and refocuses her attention on Jason. "Who was that on the phone?" she asks after a moment.

"No one," he answers automatically.

Alison sighs and deflates a little. "Why is this family's first instinct to lie?" she asks, as much to herself as to Jason because she knows she's just as guilty. But her family had enough secrets as it was and she and Jason really did need to at least _try_ to be honest with one another if they were ever going to change the pattern their parents set.

"Her name is Leah," Jason says. "I met her a few weeks ago in Philadelphia. We've been talking and hanging out a bit."

Alison can't help but smile at Jason's news. "That's great, Jason. I'm happy you have someone."

"Yeah. Thanks. She's pretty cool," he agrees sheepishly.

"I'll have to judge that for myself when I meet her."

Jason laughs. "You will. Soon. Things are still pretty new so I don't want to overwhelm her by introducing her to the family just yet."

"That's understandable. This family can be a little _intense_."

"Yeah, tell me about it," he agrees. "So what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You seeing anyone? Like that cop that's always hanging around?"

"Lorenzo?" Alison supplies, scrunching her nose up at the thought. God, why did everyone think she was sleeping with Lorenzo. Can't she just make a friend without some ulterior motive. "No. We're not together. He's just a friend."

"Good. He's too old for you anyway."

Alison rolls her eyes. "Well, don't worry, I'm done dating cops."

"How many cops have you dated?" Jason asks, his eyebrow raised in an almost comical fashion.

Alison shakes her head. "Forget I said that."

"Can I ask you something?" Jason asks, his voice suddenly turning serious.

Alison nods, although she can feel her chest constricting as her anxiety rises. Nothing good ever follows a question like that. She doesn't want to destroy the work she and Jason have done to repair their relationship but she's afraid he'll ask her a question she can't answer and she'll be forced to lie.

Jason takes a deep breath and cocks his head slightly. "What's going on with you and Emily?"

Alison stammers out a weak, "what?" to stall, because she was right, she is going to have to lie to her brother. It's not like she can tell Jason the truth. _Oh, nothing really. Emily comes by every night to brutally fuck me and call me degrading names till I hate myself enough to wish I had actually died in that makeshift grave in the backyard._

"She's been showing up here every night for the last couple of weeks, and I don't know... it just seems like there's something more than friendship between the two of you," Jason continues.

Alison can tell he's put some thought into this and she wonders how much he knows about her and Emily, or worse, how much he's _heard_ from the two of them when they're together in her bedroom.

Alison shakes her head sadly. "No. There's not...anything more than friendship between us."

Jason considers her answer for a moment but then his expression shifts. "Leah is in advertising. She works for an ad agency in Philadelphia. You know that soap commercial with the singing dog?"

"Yeah, I like that commercial. The dog is cute," Ali says with a smile, grateful for the subject change.

"Leah worked on that. She's really smart and creative. I think you'll like her."

"I'm sorry I made you cancel on her tonight. I shouldn't have asked you to stay home with me," she says, glancing down at her hands guiltily.

"Hey, no, Ali, it's fine. Leah totally understands. And to be honest, I'm kind of glad you asked," Jason says.

"You are? Wouldn't you much rather be making out with your hot new girlfriend instead of babysitting your needy little sister?" she asks with a self-deprecating grin.

Jason shrugs a little awkwardly. "It's nice... to be needed by you. You know? You've never needed anything from me before."

"I did. I just didn't know how to ask you for your help," Alison admits quietly.

"I know," Jason says, nodding. "And I should have realized that instead of resenting you for it, but I was a crappy big brother."

"Well, I was a pretty crappy little sister myself."

"Guess we were just a couple of crappy siblings then," he concedes with a smile.

Alison laughs. "I'm glad you stayed in tonight. Thank you."

Jason nods. "Me too. Okay, so got a movie in mind?"

Alison thinks for a moment. "How about The Godfather?"

"You hate that movie."

"But you love it. It's your favorite, right?"

Jason nods again. "Well, part II is."

Alison rolls her eyes because, really, what's the difference. "Okay. Godfather Part II it is," she declares. "I'll go get the DVD."

Despite her distaste for gangster movies, Alison's actually quite pleased with her movie selection. She's sitting a few feet from away Jason on the couch and she can't help but smile whenever she glances over at her brother and sees the look of rapt attention on his face as he takes in the action on screen. But what she really enjoys is whenever he breaks his concentration to point something out to her or share some useless tidbit about the film. It's been so long since her brother has talked to her like she was an actual person that she doesn't mind having to sit through this terribly boring movie for him. She's actually quite appreciative of the boringness of the movie, in fact, because about half-way through she starts feeling her eyes drop with heaviness. She curls up against the arm of the couch and drifts off into a much needed sleep as the Corleone family's drama plays out on screen.

* * *

Alison wakes up on the couch with a start sometime around 3 am. She hadn't been having a nightmare, at least not that she could remember, but she had been tossing and turning uneasily, her anxiety over the situation with Emily never completely subsiding, not even while she slept.

There's a pillow under her head and a blanket covering her body that hadn't been present when she fell asleep and she knows Jason's responsible for both. She stretches lazily and sits up, feeling around for her cell phone in the dark. Once her eyes adjust to the lack of light she spots her phone on the coffee table and leans forward to grab it, squinting at the bright light the device emits when she presses the home button to check the time.

She scrolls through her unread text messages which consist of a good night message from her father, who is once again out of town on business, and a couple of messages from Spencer asking about a History assignment. She sighs and shoves the phone in her sweatshirt pocket.

What a pathetic showing for a Saturday night. She used to be the most popular girl in school, hell probably in town, and back then her social calender had been jam packed. There was always a party to attend or a guy begging for a moment of her time. She hardly ever had to be alone if she didn't want to be. Now she barely hears from the handful of friends she has left. Spencer's texts aren't even social in nature, they're nothing more than a transparent attempt by the other girl to pry into Alison's life and expose her secrets. But Alison isn't an idiot, she knows Spencer Hastings does not need her help on a school assignment. Spencer just wants to interrogate her further about those damn bruises she hadn't been smart enough to cover up and Alison isn't going to play that game.

There's nothing from Emily, which doesn't exactly surprise Alison but somehow manages to disappoint her. Emily hadn't actually texted her in weeks, choosing to show up at her house unannounced at random hours of the night instead, but Alison thought maybe Emily would attempt to reach out to her after what happened earlier. She knows she told Emily to leave her alone and she has no intention of rescinding that demand, but she was kind of hoping that Emily would at least be as disturbed by what unfolded in her bedroom a few hours ago as she was. She wonders if Emily is awake at 3am thinking about it too.

The house is quiet and Alison assumes Jason must have gone up to bed after the movie ended. Her dad is in Chicago on business, having left after work on Friday, and will remain there till next weekend. Alison decides to go up to her room and attempt to sleep for a few more hours.

Once upstairs in her bedroom, a sense of restlessness overwhelms Alison and she anxiously wrings her hands together as she sits crossed legged on her bed and tries to prevent herself from thinking about Emily and what had transpired where she's currently sitting a few hours ago. She contemplates pulling out one of her notebooks and writing down her thoughts and feelings, just so she could purge herself of them, but then she remembers that all her old diaries had been found and read after her disappearance and she can't risk anyone finding out about her and Emily even if she is dead and gone. She throws her head down against her pillow and closes her eyes, praying for sleep to overtake her yet again. But this time it doesn't come.

* * *

When the sun comes up, Alison gives up on trying to sleep and instead stumbles back downstairs, deciding she'll express her gratitude to Jason by making him breakfast. She walks into the kitchen and immediately turns on the coffee maker. She's going to need all the caffeine she can get her hands on to get through the day. After a quick scan of the refrigerator and a once over of the pantry she decides to whip up some banana pancakes and gets to work pulling the ingredients out and setting them on the counter by the stove. She's actually not a bad cook and even enjoys it sometimes, especially times like now when she needs a distraction. She lets herself get wrapped up in her task, making a complete mess of the kitchen in the process. Her mother used to scold her for being sloppy in the kitchen whenever she attempted to cook before she ran away, but Alison had always argued that a messy kitchen was simply a sign of being a committed cook.

As she's slicing the bananas to add to the batter, her phone chirps with an incoming text message. She jumps at the sudden sound and nearly slices her finger open with the knife she's using. Shaking her head as she chastises herself for being so careless, she places the knife down and grabs her cell phone from the countertop. She takes a deep calming breath before glancing down at the notification on the screen. She's not sure who she's more terrified to get a text from at this point: A or Emily.

Fortunately, the message is from neither. Sighing, she slides her phone's lock screen up and reads Lorenzo's text message.

 _ **Lorenzo: Today 7:06 am**_

 _ **We still on for this morning? I can pick you up at 8:30.**_

Alison cringes as her eyes scan over the words again. She had been attending Sunday morning Church service with Lorenzo for the last few weeks. After having run into him there a couple of times, he had offered to give her ride when he discovered she didn't have a driver's license and usually walked. Ali was grateful to have a friend to attend Church with and she and Lorenzo would often stop and get brunch after the service. It was a nice, normal way to spend a Sunday morning and it makes her feel like maybe one day she could be nice and normal too.

She enjoys Lorenzo's company and appreciates the fact that he isn't caught up on her past and is willing to get to know the current her. He is, however, a shameless flirt, but she doesn't see the harm in it since she had been upfront about her lack of romantic feelings for him and had clearly and politely declined his multiple invitations for dates. She had briefly considered terminating their friendship, not wanting to lead another person on the way she had done with Emily in the past, but despite his persistence in continuing to ask her out even after she turned him down, he doesn't seem to take her rejection personally and had assured her they could remain friends. So they continue to attend Church together, and she happily helps him out with the Church soccer youth program, and she is even considering volunteering as a youth counselor for an upcoming 3 day Church retreat at his request.

She knows people question her seemingly sudden religious turn, but her faith had helped her get through some of her lowest lows recently, including her time in prison. Just as the Chapel had been her sanctuary in prison, Church has offered her a reprieve from her daily struggles since her release. It's a place where she feels safe and worth something, but she just can't bring herself to attend this week. Not when she's still so overwhelmed by shame and regret from everything that happened with Emily.

She hesitantly types out a response.

 _ **Alison: Sorry. Can't make it this week. Not feeling well. I'll see you next week.**_

Alison places her phone face down on the countertop, not bothering to wait for Lorenzo's response. She feels guilty about lying to Lorenzo and skipping Church, but she feels too unclean to show her face at Church in her current state. Plus she really doesn't feel like seeing anyone at the moment. She turns back to the pan on the stove and pours the batter. She makes quick work of finishing the pancakes, plating a few for Jason and munching on one herself as she cleans up.

"You're up early," Jason says as he shuffles into the kitchen, his hair a mess and his voice still full of sleep. "Did you sleep ok?"

"Yes," she lies easily. "I made pancakes."

"I can see that." Jason slides into a chair at the kitchen table and pulls the plate of pancakes over to him. He takes a large bite. "These are actually pretty good," he says around a mouthful.

Alison rolls her eyes playfully. "Don't sound so surprised. I can cook, you know." She pours him a cup of coffee and places it on the table in front of him before moving to the counter to grab her own mug, wrapping her fingers around it securely. She takes a long sip and peers at her brother over the top of the mug. "So what do you have planned for the day?"

Jason shoves another forkful of syrup covered pancakes into his mouth and brushes a hand through his unkempt hair. "I was planning on driving out to Philadelphia to see Leah. Figured we could spend the day together. Maybe see a show or go to a museum or something."

"Well, isn't that adorable," Alison grins.

"Shut up," Jason grunts, pancake crumbs flying from his mouth.

"Gross. Didn't anyone ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?"

Jason ignores his sister's lighthearted ribbing. "What about you? Any plans for the day?"

Alison shrugs, trying to appear casual. "Catch up on homework. I'm still pretty behind."

"What about Church?"

"Not up for it today," she answers. Thankfully Jason doesn't push the issue.

"What about your friends? Why don't you do something with them instead of staying cooped up in here all day with your head buried in your books?" Jason suggests.

"Because I'd actually like to graduate before I'm 30," Alison says drolly.

"You'll be fine. You got all the brains in the family."

"Still got 2 years of work to makeup," Alison points out.

Jason glances down at his pancakes. "I know. I just don't want you sitting home alone all day by yourself."

"I'll be fine, Jason. I'm a big girl," Alison says, dismissing her brother's concern.

"Why don't you come with me to Philadelphia? You can meet Leah."

"I'm not third-wheeling your date, Jason. Besides, I thought you wanted to give it some time before you introduced her to the family."

"I do...I just..."

"Jason, seriously. I'll be fine. If I get my work out of the way early enough, I'll grab dinner with the girls," she lies. "Don't worry, I can take care of myself."

"I know," Jason says quietly.

A couple of hours later, Jason is gone and Alison is back in bed with her laptop and text books scattered around her. She figures if she actually does the work she told Jason she needed to catch up on she can't be considered a liar. Besides, she can't think about Emily if she's busy studying trigonometry and conjugating Spanish verbs.

She's already finished a couple of math assignments and is about to start outlining her English essay when her phone chimes. She expects it to be Jason checking up on her again so she's surprised to see a text from Spencer asking her to grab a cup of coffee.

She wants to go. She can certainly use a break from her school work and God help her, but she actually does enjoy Spencer's company. But she knows why Spencer wants to meet and she's not up to the task of deflecting her nosy friend's prying questions. She replies to Spencer's message saying she can't make it because she's busy doing homework and tosses her cell phone out of sight so she won't be tempted to accept Spencer's offer.

Alison spends the rest of the day distracting herself with missed homework assignments. Around 6pm Jason texts her and asks if she could sleep at one of her friend's house because he'd like to stay in Philadelphia with Leah for the night but he doesn't want to leave her home alone overnight. Alison quickly texts back saying she's going to sleep at Spencer's. Of course she has no intention of actually doing so, but what her bother doesn't know won't hurt him. It's not that she wants to lie to Jason, but she doesn't want to ruin his night again.

She doesn't manage to get much sleep that night. Every creaky noise the house makes has her nearly jumping out of bed, and every time her eyes close she sees Emily's cold dark eyes staring down at her. She jolts awake at one point, breathing heavily and crying. She could have sworn she felt a pair of rough angry hands grabbing at her, but when she checks under the covers she of course finds that she's alone.

* * *

Monday morning comes and unfortunately that means the start of the school week. Alison decides to skip school, tired from her lack of sleep and worried about having to face Emily. She had woken up to a text from Jason saying he'll be home sometime before dinner so she knows she won't have to explain her absence to him.

She spends the morning completing lab reports for Biology till her eyes blur and her head hurts. Despite the obvious psychological drawbacks, her attempt at avoiding actually dealing with her problems by keeping herself busy with school work is proving to be quite beneficial. She's managed to makeup weeks worth of work in just a couple of days.

Around lunch time she gets yet another text from Spencer asking why she's not in school but she leaves it unanswered. She feels bad for ignoring her friend, but she knows Spencer is only pestering her because she's curious and has an insatiable desire to get to the bottom of every mystery that arises. Apparently, Spencer's latest fixation is the curious case of Ali's busted lip. In the past Alison would totally be up for the challenge of a Spencer Hastings' interrogation, hell, she'd probably have enjoyed going toe to toe with the brunette just for the sport of it, but she feels so worn out lately that she's afraid she'd immediately fold under Spencer's scrutiny and spill her guts.

Eventually she drifts off to sleep in a mess of open text books and half-finished work sheets. She's pulled from her impromptu nap late in the afternoon by a loud round knocking on her front door. She shuffles down the stairs groggily, not really thinking about what she's doing or who could be knocking. When she pulls the door open she's surprised to see Spencer standing on her front porch, glaring at her with a frown on her face and her arms crossed across her chest.

"You can't ignore me," Spencer says in way of greeting, pushing past Alison and walking into the foyer of the DiLaurentis house.

"Come in, why don't ya," Alison mutters to herself groggily.

"I've been calling and texting you since last night and you've been totally blowing me off. Why weren't you at school today?" Spencer demands, unamused.

"I didn't feel like going."

Spencer raises an accusing eyebrow. "Ali, you've already missed more than two years of school, you can't exactly afford to miss any more days if you want to graduate anywhere in the realm of on time."

Alison rolls her eyes. "It was one day."

"So you're going to show up tomorrow?"

"Sure. I'll be there with bells on," Alison says, flashing Spencer a dazzling fake smile.

"What's going on with you, Ali?" Spencer asks, eyeing the blonde carefully.

"Nothing. I took a mental health day. It's not like I've never skipped a day of school before."

"Lorenzo said you were a no-show at Church yesterday, too." Spencer tells her.

Alison's eyes narrow in irritation. "You talked to Lorenzo about me?"

"I had a free period," Spencer starts to explain. "I went to see Toby on his lunch break and Lorenzo was with him. We got to talking."

"About me?" Alison grounds out angrily.

Spencer brushes off Alison's annoyance. "Well, it's not like you'll talk to me so I had no choice but to go straight to the source."

"Straight to the source? The source of what?" Alison demands.

Spencer gestures to Alison's mouth and Alison absently raises her right hand to brush her fingers over her bruised lip. What was everyone's obsession with her stupid busted lip? It was just a little cut. It hardly hurt.

"You...you accused Lorenzo of hitting me!" Alison shouts, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"No! Of course not. Not directly. I just needed to suss out the situation," Spencer answers, shifting guiltily in her spot.

"Spencer, you can't just go around accusing people of things they didn't do! Don't you remember what happened last time you did that?! I wound up sitting in a jail cell for months, convicted of a murder that never even happened!" Alison can't help but yell, she's livid. Spencer had no right to talk to her friend about her personal life. And to accuse Lorenzo, a police officer of all people, of something so appalling is simply unacceptable.

"I know! I'm sorry," Spencer apologizes.

Alison can see genuine regret flash across the other girl's face and she briefly wonders if Spencer's guilt is the result of prying into Alison's personal life via Lorenzo, or if it's due to the whole getting Alison arrested for murder fiasco. Alison hadn't meant to throw that in Spencer's face, she really is trying to forgive her friends for the part they played in her prison ordeal, but maybe she's not as over it as she likes to pretend she is.

Alison sighs, feeling bad for lashing out and Spencer continues. "He doesn't know what I was getting at. I promise. And I don't think it's him anymore, anyway."

"Good," Alison says. "Because Lorenzo wouldn't hurt me. We're friends. We go to Church together. That's it."

"I know. But someone did hurt you. Someone is the reason why you're avoiding Church and skipping school and staying holed up alone in this house covered in bruises."

Alison rolls her eyes at Spencer's dramatic description. "It's just a little cut on my lip. You're acting like someone punched me in the face. It was just a slap and it hardly even hurt."

"Ha, so you admit it! Someone did hit you!" Spencer says triumphantly, clearly pleased with herself for getting Alison to admit the truth. "Who was it? Your dad? Jason? Someone you're dating?"

"Gees, Spence, try to sound a little less excited about it," Alison quips, frustrated with herself. She can't believe she screwed up so badly. Spencer hadn't even broken out the big guns yet. Clearly she was right to assume she couldn't survive a Spencer Hastings interrogation in her current state of mind. Not even five minutes in and she had already slipped.

"Sorry. I don't mean it like that. I'm just-"

"Happy you tricked me into telling the truth?" Alison interrupts knowingly.

Alison sighs and turns away from the scrutinizing eyes of her friend. She knows she can't tell Spencer the truth about Emily, but there's a small part of her that actually wants to open up. She wants to be the type of person who spills their guts to their best friend so that she doesn't have to feel like she's being crushed by the weight of this massive ugly secret, but she's not that type of person. She's the type of person who protects herself by keeping secrets and shutting people out.

Spencer takes a step forward and grabs hold of Alison's hand in her own, her eyes pleading with the surprised blonde.

"Ali, please. I can see the wheels turning in your head. I know you're trying to figure out if you can trust me right now and I'm telling you, you can. I'm not out to get you. I'm here because I care about you and I don't want to see you get hurt again. Keeping secrets has brought us all nothing but pain and heartache. We have to stop lying to each other," Spencer pleads. "Who did this to you?"

Alison carefully considers Spencer's words, turning them over in her head as she attempts to figure out her next move. Her first instinct had been to shrug Spencer off and tell her to get lost, but Spencer's right. Keeping secrets has never protected her the way she thought it would. She did it because she had convinced herself she couldn't trust anyone, and maybe she couldn't, but as a result, no one trusted her either. And it's lonely living in a world with no trust and she doesn't want to live in that world anymore. She had ruined one relationship already, and while she doesn't love Spencer, Aria and Hanna the way she loves Emily, they're still her friends and she does care about them.

"Someone did hurt me," Alison admits quietly. The words feel like gravel in her mouth as she pushes them past her lips. "But we're not together and we never will be. It's over."

"Who?" Spencer prods gently. She's still holding Alison's hand, starring into Alison's soul with those wild brown eyes of hers.

"I can't tell you that."

"Ali," Spencer scolds.

"Spencer, please. I can't. It's not important who it is anyway. They're out of the picture. What we had wasn't good for either of us and they aren't who I thought they were. So it's over now and I just want to move on and forget about them. This whole thing has been embarrassing and degrading and I don't want to think about it anymore than I have to. I know you want more from me but please accept that this is all I could give you right now."

Spencer nods after a moment, seemingly accepting Alison's plea as she drops Alison's hand from her grasp. "Okay."

"Thank you."

And Alison really is grateful because she knows it's just as hard for Spencer to drop something she's fixated on as it is for Alison to open up when she's hurting. But there's a look in Spencer's eyes that makes Alison think that maybe Spencer isn't giving up so easily after-all. Because Spencer is more like Alison than either girl would like to admit, and while Spencer may be trying to be better at letting things go, she'll never completely change her spots or stop being who she is. So maybe Spencer will be back tomorrow or the next day demanding to know the whole sordid story- the who, the when, the how—but for now, Alison feels a little bit lighter and for that, she's grateful.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hey, thanks for the great response to the last chapter! I really do appreciate all of you who read and review and I hope you continue to let me know what you think. Here's chapter 7. I kind of struggled writing this one, so I'm posting it now without revising as much as I usually would because if I go over it any more I'll probably never get it out, so it's now or never.**

 **Oh so someone PMed me an Emison prompt! Never had that happen before so that was pretty cool and I'm actually thinking of tackling it. So I might post that before the next chapter of this story since it's a Christmas prompt and I'd like to get it done before the holiday.**

 **Just a note, the first part of this chapter runs concurrently with last chapter.**

* * *

It doesn't surprise Emily when Alison fails to show up at school on Monday morning. She's not even sure how she managed to get herself to school today. After leaving Alison's house Saturday night she had gone home and collapsed on her bed, exhausted and disgusted with herself. She had cried till the alcohol in her system had lulled her into a fitful slumber and then awoken to the harsh reality that the previous night had not been a dream. Sunday had passed mostly in a blur after she managed to swipe two bottles of cheap wine from the kitchen cabinet when her mother was out grocery shopping.

She wakes up on Monday morning hung over and guilt-ridden, and basically functions on auto-pilot till she finds herself walking through the double doors of Rosewood High. She can't remember getting dressed or even driving to school, but here she is standing besides her friends at her locker with a pounding headache. She tries to look discrete as her eyes follow every long-haired blonde girl that passes. She's desperate to catch a glimpse of Alison so she could assure herself that the blonde is alright, but Alison never shows and Emily does't blame her. She wouldn't want to see herself either after what she did.

She knows there's no excusing her behavior, but she really hadn't meant to hurt Alison. Not in that way. She would never force herself on anyone, especially not Alison. The thought alone makes her sick. Sure their intimate encounters had been rough and she had been harsh with the blonde, maybe even cruel, but Alison hadn't exactly objected. Not that she could recall anyway. Ali might have been hesitant that first night but once Emily had touched her, Alison had practically begged her to fuck her and then they had settled into a routine of sorts. Well, maybe she had initiated that routine but Alison hadn't protested, not much at least. She couldn't really remember. She hadn't been too fussed with how Alison felt about it but she swears she would have stopped if Alison had objected. She's not that much of a monster.

Sex with Alison wasn't at all how she imagined it'd be. She had wanted Alison since they were both 14 years old, before she even understood what exactly it was she wanted from the blonde. Back then just the sight of Alison's sultry smile or sparkling blue eyes would make her feel something strange in the pit of her stomach. And while she hadn't understood the feelings she was having for her best friend at the time, Alison had and she had relished in Emily's crush on her. Emily still remembers the gleam in Alison's eyes whenever the blonde shamelessly flirted with her or flaunted herself in front of Emily while they changed, whispering in her ear in that sexy kittenish voice of hers, or brushing her fingers ever so lightly over Emily's skin whenever they touched. It had been torture, but the best kind of torture.

Alison was her first kiss and she had wanted more than anything to make Alison her first in other regards, as well. She would often picture how she thought it'd happen. She'd picture them laying on beach towels out by the lake in the summer when no one else was around, laughing softly and exchanging tentative touches. Alison would be sweet and patient with her and she'd show Alison just how much she meant to her.

But Alison hadn't returned her feelings, she had cruelly shot her down and mocked her instead. And then Ali was gone-before Emily had ever gotten the chance to tell her how much she loved her. And Emily had felt guilty for thinking of Alison that way. For fantasizing about being with her best friend who liked boys and who had disappeared.

So Emily clamped down her feelings for Ali, let go of her fantasy and given herself to Maya and then to Paige. Both girls had been good to her and good for her. Even though they had both eventually left her, Emily had appreciated their time together. Had maybe even loved them. But they weren't Alison and somewhere deep down inside Emily always knew she'd always be hung up on her first love.

When she finally got to have Alison in the way she had always wanted, it was all wrong. She was angry and hurt, blinded by misdirected rage, and Alison was sad and hopeless, had seemed empty almost. There was no love between them, no romance or sweetness, it had just been sex and Emily had never wanted to just have sex with Alison. She had wanted to make love to her, to feel her in the most intimate way possible. But Emily realizes now that while she had Alison's body, she never really gotten Alison herself. And it was just so like Alison to give herself to Emily without actually giving herself to her.

But it didn't matter that it wasn't how she had imagined, it was still enough to sustain her, thrill her even. And because Ali had always been the worst kind of addiction for her, she couldn't stop herself from going back for more after that first time. And amazingly Alison had let her. So she returned, embolden and more aggressive and Alison just took whatever punishment she dolled out because under that sharp tongue and bravado, Emily knew Alison was just a frightened girl full of self-loathing and desperate to be loved.

Emily had recognized that hopeless look of love in Alison's eyes that first night they spent together, it was the same look she had once worn for Alison, and Emily had shamelessly exploited it. She knew Alison must have wanted to demand to be treated better, knew she was too afraid to lose the one person she thought might actually love her, and so she let Emily use her. And Emily did-she took all her anger out on the blonde, used the girl's body as a coping mechanism. She told herself Alison deserved it, but she knew most of her anger had been misdirected. She was angry about so many things—every girl she had ever cared about had left her and she blamed Alison. She and her friends had been stalked and harassed for years by an anonymous coward and she blamed Alison. And then they had been kidnapped and locked in that horrible place and she blamed Ali for that too, because it all came back to the blonde. It always had. Alison was the catalyst for every bad thing that ever happened to her.

But she was no better than Alison was, if anything she was worse because while Ali had exploited her feelings, she had never exploited her body. But Emily had just been so angry and Ali had been so willing and Emily knew it wasn't right, wasn't fair to Ali, but it was just too easy to slip into Alison's bed and take out all her anger and pain on the one person in her life who might actually be more damaged than she is.

But Saturday night, she had gone too far. She knows that, she's not an idiot. She just doesn't know how she got to that point. Getting drunk had been a mistake, obviously, just one of many that day, and she had once again decided to blame Alison for how she was feeling. So she stormed into Alison's room to yell at her, to tell her how badly she had fucked up her life, but then Alison was pinned beneath her, pushing at her chest and screaming at her to _stop._ She doesn't even remember starting but Alison's face, twisted up in pain and fear, had sobered her up immediately. And when she had looked down and seen her hand between Alison's legs, her heart had nearly stopped.

And now Alison hates her and will probably never forgive her and she's stuck in school trying to appear interested in what her friends have to say as Spencer, Hanna and Aria discuss Alison's absence. The girls are all gathered around Emily's locker and after a brief discussion, they conclude that Ali skipping must have something to do with the bruises they spotted on her skin on Saturday afternoon. Emily feels too sick to contribute to the conversation and she wonders if the other girls notice her grimacing whenever they mention Alison's name.

The bell rings and Hanna and Aria say their goodbyes and head down the hallway in the opposite direction. Spencer walks with her, looping her arm through hers and nudging her with her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Em, we'll do whatever it takes to help Ali. No one hurts one of our friend and gets away with it," Spencer assures her.

Emily nods uneasily, realizing Spencer must be mistaking the look of anguish on her face for worry, which isn't entirely inaccurate. She is of course worried about Alison, but it's the guilt that's destroying her. There's still a small irrational part of her that hopes Saturday night hadn't actually happened, that the images in her head of Alison terrified and pleading with her to stop, are figments of her twisted imagination. If only it was all a dream, a sick, twisted fantasy.

"So I was thinking of going by Ali's after school today to make sure she's alright," Spencer says, cutting into her thoughts. "You wanna come with me? Maybe she'll open up to you. You two have always had a special connection."

Emily shakes her head, perhaps a little too frantically. "No. I can't. I have swim practice and homework to do. So I can't go-I can't blow off practice now that I'm assistant coach. I need to be there."

"Oh, okay," Spencer says eyeing Emily suspiciously. "Well, wish me luck. I'll report my findings."

* * *

Surprisingly, Alison does show up on Tuesday. Emily sees her arrive just before first bell and slip into a classroom before any of them could approach her. She wonders if Alison's presence in school has something to do with Spencer's visit the previous day.

"Well, at least she's here today," Hanna comments as the girls watch her disappear into the classroom.

"Guess we'll catch up with her at lunch," Aria adds with a shrug.

Emily fiddles nervously with the strap on her bag before opening up her mouth and forcing out the question that had been laying so heavily on her mind. "So Spence, what'd you find out when you went to see Alison yesterday?"

She knows she's playing with fire asking the question in front of Hanna and Aria—because if Ali told Spencer the truth, then Emily would be done. Her friends would never look at her the same again if they knew what she was capable of. But it's Alison-she doesn't expect Spencer to have actually gotten any truthful information out of the blonde. Still, she has to be sure.

Spencer shakes her head as she pulls a couple of notebooks from her locker. "Nothing too revelatory."

"What'd you expect, it's Alison," Hanna snarks.

Spencer turns away from her locker to face her friends. She looks conflicted and Emily's stomach clenches in panic.

"It's not like that," Spencer starts defensively. "She's not lying or keeping secrets just for fun. It's personal and she's ashamed to talk about it."

"Ashamed to talk about what?" Aria asks.

"The guy who hurt her," Spencer says.

Hanna straightens up in disbelief. "Whoa! So there is someone?!"

"She said that? She said there's a guy who hurt her?" Emily asks, trying to hide her shock that Alison even entertained such a conversation with Spencer.

Spencer nods her head slightly. "She told me there was someone. But she swore that it was over and that whoever it was is no longer in the picture."

"Did she say who it was? Was it Lorenzo?" Aria asks.

"Was it an on going thing? Has he hurt her before?" Hanna adds.

"I don't know, she didn't really get into it," Spencer answers. "And she wouldn't give me a name. It's not Lorenzo though. Ali denied being anything more than friends with him and I checked him out on my own."

Hanna pushes herself off of the locker she had been leaning against, clearly distressed by Spencer's reveal. "So then who the hell is it? Has Ali been in a secret relationship this whole time?"

Spencer sighs before addressing them again. "I don't know. She just said that what they had wasn't good for either of them and that this person wasn't who she thought he was. She wants to move on and forget about him. I don't think she's in danger anymore, so I think we should just drop it. Let her come to us if she wants to talk."

"How do you know this guy is going to stay away from her just because she told him to?" Aria asks.

"I don't," Spencer admits. "But she seems to think the situation is under control and what else can we do but believe her."

"Under control?" Hanna scoffs. "Fuck that. I say we corner her at lunch and demand she coughs up a name. Then we go find this jerk after school and teach him a little lesson with the shiny new set of golf clubs my mom just bought Ted for his birthday."

"Yeah, I'm with Hanna. I call dibs on the nine iron," Aria agrees empathically.

"Guys! This isn't an A matter. It doesn't concern us. It's Ali's personal business," Spencer insists, trying to get the situation under control.

"Since when does some guy smacking around our best friend not concern us? Em, come on, back me up here. You must want to rip this guy to shreds more than any of us," Aria says, turning to Emily for support.

Emily freezes, her eyes going wide and her mouth running dry at the sound of her name. She had remained unusually quiet throughout the whole exchange, hoping to avoid being pulled into a conversation none of her friends knew was actually about her. And as she listened to her friends angrily malign Alison's abusive mystery guy, she had to fight to keep herself from breaking down into tears and revealing her secret. But now everyone is looking at her, waiting for her response, and Emily wishes she could just disappear into one of the lockers lining the wall.

"I... uh, yeah... I mean, I don't know... maybe Spencer has a point. If Ali doesn't want us involved, it's her decision," Emily stammers out.

Hanna doesn't bother to suppress her displeasure at Emily's answer. "Are you kidding me?"

"Look, we can't force her to tell us anything. She's entitled to her privacy," Spencer says as she slams her locker shut and takes a deep breath. "You guys didn't see her face when she finally admitted someone had actually hurt her. She looked completely broken... like just saying the words was destroying her. I'm just as angry as you guys, but Ali wants to move on and we need to let her."

"Fine. Whatever. But this asshole better stay away from Alison if he knows what's good for him," Hanna mutters angrily.

The girls disperse and Emily finds herself staring at the doorway of the classroom Alison had disappeared into. What the hell was she supposed to say to her when they finally came face to face?

The question plagues Emily all morning but her panic turns out to be in vain as Alison doesn't show at lunch. Spencer informs them that Alison had said she had a few missed Math quizzes to make up and would probably miss lunch all week to do so. Of course Emily knows that's either a lie or an intentional attempt by Alison to avoid her.

Alison is basically a ghost at school for the rest of the week. At least when it comes to Emily. She knows the other girls have each spoken to Alison at some point during the week but Ali has everyone convinced that she's busy making up missed exams and being tutored. Still, no matter how hard Emily tries to get a moment alone with her, Alison manages to evade her. Emily's not sure why she's so surprised by the blonde's ability to avoid an unwanted situation, Alison had spent 2 years on the run hiding in plain sight, of course she knows how to remain unseen.

By Friday Emily had given up on actually trying to talk to Alison so she's a little thrown off guard when she and Hanna happen upon Spencer and Aria sitting with an unsuspecting Alison at a table in the courtyard.

"Ali! Finally taking a break from all that make-up work, I see," Hanna greets cheerfully. "Thank God. I was starting to worry that you were turning into another Spencer."

Spencer makes a noise of indignation. "Hey, would that really be so terrible?"

"I wouldn't mind having two of you, Spence," Aria smiles in response.

"Of course _you_ wouldn't. You're Team Sparia," Hanna sniggers.

As Spencer, Aria and Hanna bicker among themselves, Emily finally locks eyes with the elusive blonde she's been chasing around school all week. But suddenly she wishes she had never caught up with her, because Alison looks terrified of her and she swears she can feel her heart cracking as she takes in Alison's wide panicked eyes and shaky hands. She wishes the ground would just open up and swallow her whole because she'd rather disappear than face the fact that she's become someone Alison fears.

"You gonna have a seat, Em? Or just stand there all day with your mouth hanging open like a spaz?" Hanna asks, interrupting her internal breakdown. Emily looks from Hanna, who has already made herself comfortable at the girls' table, to Spencer and Aria. She can't bear to look at Alison again.

But then out of the corner of her eye she catches Alison jumping up from her seat and frantically gathering her belongings.

"Here, she can have my seat. I have to go," Alison says without looking in Emily's direction. She's trying to shove her books in her bag but her hands are noticeably shaky and she's having trouble getting them in.

"Aw, come on, Ali, you can't bail on us now! This is the first time the five of us have been together all week," Hanna complains.

"I'm sorry but I need to study. I have a Spanish test later and I want to go over some things and my book is in my locker so I better go get it..." Alison trails off, struggling to get the last text book into her messenger bag. "Dammit. Come on," she mutters under her breath.

"You alright, Ali?" Aria asks as the others look on curiously.

Spencer stands and takes Alison's bag from her hands. "Here, I got it," she says softly. She looks over the books in Alison hand and frowns as she reaches for one. "Ali, your Spanish textbook isn't in your locker, it's in your hand."

Alison looks panicked for a moment, like she's been caught in a lie, but quickly smooths out her expression. "Oh, right. Did I say Spanish? I meant Math. I have a Math test next period I need to study for. You know how confusing Math is to me, might as well be a foreign language," she laughs, trying to sound calm, but Emily can sense her distress.

"Wasn't your Math test this morning?" Aria questions.

"What's with all the questions!" Alison snaps, causing Aria to jump back slightly. Alison pulls her now neatly packed bag out of Spencer's hands. "I have things to do. Okay? I don't have to explain myself to you guys. So, excuse me," she says, slipping into the crowd of surrounding students and disappearing as Emily looks on miserably.

"That girl just gets crazier and crazier every day," Hanna comments dryly, reaching out to pull Alison's untouched salad over to her.

* * *

After Alison's outburst at school Emily decides she has to bite the bullet and get her confrontation with Alison out of the way before the tension between them boils over and one of them snaps in front of their friends. She'd really rather do it in private, away from her concerned friends and nosy classmates, so she decides to pay a visit to the DiLaurentis house after school.

She approaches Alison's doorstep with apprehension. She knows Alison doesn't want to see her, the blonde had been perfectly clear about that, but they can't just avoid each other till graduation and then go their separate ways. Rosewood is a small town and they share 3 best friends. They're going to have to learn to co-exist or risk rousing suspicion amongst the other girls. The last thing Emily wants is to go against Alison's wishes after what she's already put the girl through, but she tells herself she's doing what's necessary, that she's being mature, because she can't lose Alison now.

Emily's surprised to be greeted by a stony-faced Jason when she knocks on Alison's door. Jason had barely looked at her whenever he opened the door previously, but now she can feel him glaring at her in observation and it's making her nervous.

She offers her sweetest, most disarming smile. "Hey Jason, is Ali around?"

"Yeah, she's here. But you can't see her," Jason says.

Emily's brows knit in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"She asked me not to let you in."

Emily forces a smile through her shock and playfully rolls her eyes. "We just had a little fight, I'm sure we could smooth everything over easily. That's actually why I'm here... to apologize."

Jason crosses his arms over his chest, clearly unimpressed with Emily's attempt to charm her way inside. "I don't know what's going on with you two but I know my sister spent all night crying the last time you left her room. I'm sorry but you can't come in, Emily."

"You're really not going to let me see her?" Emily asks in disbelief. Of all the roadblocks she expected to hit in her path to redemption, Jason hadn't even occurred to her.

"Look, I know Ali's no saint but she doesn't deserve whatever it is you're doing to her. Just stay away from her," Jason says.

Emily can't help the sudden bout of rage that flares up inside her at being turned away from Alison by Jason of all people. "When did you suddenly start giving a damn about what happens to Ali?" she demands. "Aren't you the great big brother who used to get stoned and look the other way while your sleaze-bag friends tried to get in your baby sister's pants?" she spits tauntingly.

Jason's nostrils flair and his eyes twitch Emily knows she struck a nerve. And as Jason stands in front of her trying to appear unfazed by Emily's accusation, she can't help but notice how similar Jason and Alison actually are. And suddenly Emily is wondering if displaying human emotion had been barred in the DiLaurentis home because there's got to be a reason why both Ali and Jason are so terrible at it.

"You're not welcomed here, Emily," Jason says, his voice ice cold. "Now I suggest you leave or I'll have the officers parked at the curb escort you from the property."

Emily shakes her head and clenches her fists at her side before turning on her heels and storming off the porch.

Standing in Alison's front yard, embarrassed and enraged at being turned away, Emily gazes up in the direction of Alison's bedroom window. Sure enough, Alison is watching her from behind her sheer white curtain with an unreadable expression on her face.

Whatever Emily had been previously thinking when she caught sight of the blonde's beautiful face in the window fades away when her phone vibrates in her back pocket. She can still feel Alison's eyes on her as she reads the notification.

 _Blocked ID: (1) new text message._

Her stomach drops and she looks up at Alison with wide fearful eyes. Alison seems to note Emily's panic and she frowns in confusion as she observes Emily reading the new text message.

It's an audio file with a short message attached.

" _Who's the bully now? Confess your sins to your friends or I will."_


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Thanks for the awesome response to the last chapter! I loved reading all your reactions to that ending and I'm happy to see you enjoyed it!**

 **Here's the next chapter. Well, really this is part 1 of the next chapter so it's on the short side, which I apologize for. It's probably more like an introduction to the next part which I promise will be much longer and hopefully published within the the next few days. I just decided to break the chapter up because it was getting way too long and because the first few pages are done and edited and can sort of stand on their own, so I figured I'd put them out now because I didn't want to delay any longer than I already have.**

* * *

Emily finds herself parked in front of her own house, her heart hammering in her chest and her head in a thick fog of panic. Her cell phone sits heavily in her lap, taunting her with the gut wrenching reminder of her recent despicable behavior. She doesn't remember driving home. The last thing she recalls is the feeling of Alison's soft blue eyes boring into her from the window as she stood frozen on the DiLaurentis lawn, but somehow she's here, parked in her driveway and gripped with a crippling sense of anxiety.

With trembling fingers she picks up her phone and forces herself to read the message again.

" _Who's the bully now? Confess your sins to your friends or I will."_

She notices the audio file attached to the message and feels her chest tighten. She had been so overwhelmed by the sight of the text that she had nearly forgotten about the audio file. Taking a deep breath, she presses play and braces herself for the horrors that await her. Suddenly the sound of voices fills the car and Emily feels paralyzed.

" _They thought this was bad? Wait till they see what I do to you tonight,"_

" _Em."_

" _Poor little Alison. Always the victim._

" _Why didn't you tell them how much you like it? Hm? How hard you come when I fuck you?"_

" _Poor, poor, battered Alison,"_

" _How do you do it, Ali, hm?_

" _How do you trick everyone into falling for your act?"_

" _I wasn't trying to... Agh! Emily!"_

" _You're no victim, Ali. You're a lying, manipulative bitch and you deserve everything you get,"_

" _Oh God!"_

" _Emily, hold on...p-please, slow...ow...slow down."_

" _Em, stop please, you're hurting me,"_

" _Emily, stop! Stop it! Get off of me! Stop!"_

The phone slips from Emily's shaky hands and falls back into her lap. Her own voice sounds foreign to her, so full of anger and hate. She doesn't remember saying those things, those horribly vile things, to Alison. But it's the sound of Alison's voice, desperate and full of fear, pleading with her to stop that breaks Emily's heart. She's never heard Alison sound like that before and it terrifies her to know she's the one who reduced the blonde to begging.

Despite the painful cracking in her heart, Emily presses play again and forces herself to once again listen to what she did. She closes her eyes and starts to sob as the sound of Alison's pleas replay in her head.

Some time later the ringing of her phone in her lap snaps Emily out of her daze. Her stomach twists with fear as she grabs the device and turns it over to see who's calling. She expels the breath she had been holding upon seeing Hanna's name flash across the screen, but her relief is short lived when she remembers what A is forcing her to do. She presses ignore to send the call to voicemail and stumbles out of the car. Her legs feel weak and her mind hazy but she feels too exposed sitting out in her car, she needs to get inside.

Things had been relatively quiet on the A front since they got out of the Dollhouse and Emily had foolishly assumed Charles was laying low because they were onto him, but he had managed to bug Alison's room and plant a mic to record them. Emily feels sick at the thought of Alison's deranged brother listening to their most intimate encounters.

She can't help but wonder what else Charles might have planted in Alison's room. Was there video too? Was that going to be the next text she got from A? She doesn't think she'd survive having to watch that. She cringes at the gross violation of privacy that somehow still manages to shock her after all this time. She needs to call Alison and warn her that her room is compromised, but she can't even begin to imagine how badly that conversation would go. Alison is unlikely to even take her call, and maybe informing Alison that such a recording exists would do more harm than good at the moment. The blonde already had so much to deal with, she doesn't need this on her plate as well. She'll tell Alison eventually, she decides, but right now she can't think of anything other than A's brazen threat.

"Hi, sweetheart. Dinner will be ready in an hour," her mother calls out as she stumbles through the living room and makes a beeline for the stairs. She heads straight to her bedroom, ignoring her mother's greeting, and pulls out the bottle of orange flavored vodka she had stashed under her bed a couple of weeks ago. She takes several long gulps before setting the bottle on her nightstand and crawling under her covers, not even bothering to change out of her clothes.

Her phone rings again and she catches sight of Hanna's name displayed on the screen. She winces remembering how furiously Hanna had responded to the knowledge that someone had hurt Alison. What the hell was she going to do? How could she tell her friends what she did and become the person they wanted to beat with golf clubs not too long ago.

* * *

Emily spends all weekend holed up in her room getting blackout drunk and then sleepwalks through the following school week. It's becoming a pattern for her—using alcohol to avoid her problems-one she knows is dangerously unhealthy, but with A's threat weighing heavily on her mind and Alison's pleading voice haunting her day and night, Emily can't stand to be sober for too long. Fortunately her mother leaves to visit her dad in Texas on Sunday so she doesn't catch any flack at home for her drinking. With no one around to keep her in check at home all week, Emily is all too eager to let the alcohol quiet the noise in her head.

Her friends express their concern when she shows up to school sullen and obviously hung over, but she brushes off their questions and continues to grapple with her demons on her own. She has one rather scary run-in with Mr. Mooney, her history teacher, who asks her to stay after class one day and then tries to play the caring teacher role by pointing out her change in demeanor and asking her if anything's wrong. She gets him off her back by rattling off some generic excuse about the stress of graduating and continues her descent into despair.

Despite her best efforts to avoid thinking about Alison, Emily finds herself watching the blonde intently whenever she spots the blonde in school. She'd like to think that Ali is doing a little better but they still haven't spoken so she can't say for sure. She's quieter than usual but she seems less fidgety and she no longer flees when Emily enters the room. Spencer seems to spend the most time with Alison and hasn't expressed any concerns to her, Hanna or Aria so Emily thinks she must be doing okay. Still, Emily tries to make it easier on Alison and herself and stay away whenever possible. But it's a small school and they share a set of best friends so crossing paths in unavoidable, and at times when Alison must think Emily isn't looking, Emily catches the blonde sneaking glances of her, like Ali wants to ask her a question but can't bring herself to.

By the middle of the week Emily feels physically worn down, like she might collapse at any second from the weight of it all.

"You look like shit," Hanna says bluntly on Tuesday. It's not the first time Hanna has looked her over and voiced such an opinion so Emily knows she must look as bad as she feels.

"Thanks, Han," Emily mutters tiredly.

Hanna slams the locker shut beside her and Emily winces, the loud noise painfully piercing through her skull.

"You know, if you're gonna get tanked on a school night and show up to school reeking of booze and hungover the least you could do is invite me out with you," Hanna scolds.

"I didn't go out last night. And I'm not hungover."

"Are you forgetting who you're talking to, Em? I know hungover when I see it."

"So I had a little to drink last night. So what? You're hardly one to judge," Emily says, alluding to Hanna's brief dependency on alcohol during her own dark time. Emily's mouth twists a little at the irony. Not too long ago Hanna had started drinking because Alison was back in their lives and Hanna couldn't deal with her presence, and now Emily is drinking because she's pushed Alison out of her life and she can't deal with the loss of her. Somehow it always comes back to Alison.

Hanna sighs. "I'm not judging. I'm worried."

"Well don't be," Emily says striding away from her friend.

* * *

She won't dare look at her phone, afraid of what she might see if she does. She hasn't received any more threats from Charles but she knows enough to know that just because A is quiet that doesn't mean she's safe. She knows she has to make a decision. A won't let her put it off for much longer. She either comes clean and destroys her friends' opinion of her on her own, or she lets A make good on his threat and do it for her. Either way she loses.

So she makes an attempt. She finds Aria after school on Wednesday and hesitantly asks the burgeoning photographer if she can tag along on Aria's latest photo taking excursion.

"Of course," Aria says, smiling warmly as she shuts her locker and shoulders her camera bag.

Emily nervously follows the petite brunette out of the school. Apparently Aria was planning to take some shots of the sun setting over the lake, which was decidedly less creepy than the salvage yard they had previously visited together, and for that Emily is grateful.

Approaching the girls one on one had seemed less daunting than telling them as a group and after some consideration, Emily had decided to start with Aria. It's not that she expects Aria to react favorably to what she has to say, but Aria is the most compassionate and level-headed one in the group so she seems like the safest place to start.

Emily has to admit the idea of telling Spencer and Hanna terrifies her. Despite Alison and Spencer's antagonistic history, Spencer had been the first to embrace this new changed Alison after she had helped rescue them from the Dollhouse, and as a result she was fiercely protective of the blonde. As for Hanna, well Hanna had made her feelings on the matter of Alison's possible abuser abundantly clear the last time they all discussed the issue, and Emily is in no mood to face off against a golf club wielding Hanna Marin.

"So you feeling better?" Aria asks as they walk through the school parking lot.

"What?" Emily croaks out, having lost herself in thought.

"Your headache," Aria points out.

Emily nods, remembering the lie she had previously told her friends to explain her bad mood. "Oh, yeah. A little."

Aria smiles sweetly. "Good."

As Emily struggles to find a way to broach the subject of her and Ali and A's threat, Aria turns to address her once again. "So I was thinking maybe later we could pick up some takeout and stop by Ali's to watch a movie. I know she doesn't want to talk about _things_ , but she's been so down lately. This guy really did a number on her," Aria notes sadly. "I figured we could keep her company and hopefully take her mind off of everything for a little bit. I just want to get a couple shots in at the lake before I completely lose the sun."

Emily swallows thickly and nods. She can't tell her friends what she did. They'll hate her and she'll lose them just like she lost Alison. Her friends are all she has left. They're the one constant good thing in her life and while they've been able to weather some stormy times together in the past, she doubts they'll stand by her this time. How could they? How could they know what she did and not think of her as anything other than a heinous monster? She knows what she did was awful and she knows she deserves to be punished, but it was a mistake, a horrible mistake. She'll regret it for the rest of her life, but she won't throw away her friendship with the girls just because A tells her to. No, she refuses to play A's game.

Aria unlocks her car's doors and Emily's head snaps up at the sound.

"You think we should text Ali and let her know we're coming?" Aria asks. "Or go for the surprise attack so she has no time to make up an excuse not to see us?"

"Uh, you know what, I actually just remembered I'm supposed to be at practice right now," Emily stammers out.

"Oh. Really?" Aria asks.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I totally forgot. Coach changed the schedule at the last minute, and I'm the assistant coach, so, I can't make it today."

Aria's mouth falls into a slight pout. "Well, that sucks."

"Sorry," Emily apologizes again. "Rain check?"

"Sure. No problem. Go and assist," Aria tells her.

Emily offers her friend a tight smile and turns back towards the school before Aria could see her falter. Lying to her friends had always made her a bit queasy, but she has to admit, she's getting better at it.

She tells herself she's being brave by standing up to A and not falling prey to his blackmailing ways. She even convinces herself that this is what Alison would want her to do. Alison would surely want her to stay quiet about their intimate relationship and refuse to be bullied by A, she's just doing what Ali would want. Or at least that's what she tells herself, but deep down she knows she's just a coward who's afraid to tell the truth.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note: Thanks again for reading and reviewing! I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter, hopefully you like this one too. Either way, let me know what you think.**_

 _ **Oh, and what does everyone think of the new season? Anyone else annoyed with the way the other liars sometimes treat Ali? I just want them to include her and not act like being her friend is such a chore. Oh well, just more reason for me to make them better friends in my story.**_

* * *

As the long torturous week comes to a close, Emily finds herself invited to a Hollis party of all things. Megan Miller's parents are out of town and her older brother, who's a sophomore at Hollis, is throwing a party. Megan and a couple of other girls on the swim team had practically demanded she attend because apparently she's been "a total downer" lately at practice. Megan had promised there'd be tons of booze and hot guys at the party, and while Emily isn't interested in the guys of course, she isn't going to pass up free booze when Alison's broken voice is still playing on a constant loop inside her brain. She's already gone through most of the liquor in her house and she can't afford to be blowing any more of her money on beer if she's going to replace what she's stolen from her mother before she notices.

She doesn't exactly want to be at a party right now. She doesn't deserve to have fun, which isn't really an issue because she's not having any, but she needs the distraction. Needs to get out of the house and do something other than think about Alison and drink alone in her room till her head grows heavy and her eyes blur. She's been ignoring her friends, too afraid to face them, and she's never felt more alone than she has the past few days. A's threat continues to hang over her head like an anvil poised to drop and crush her at any second, but the fear of her friends seeing her for the monster she's become is too crippling and she still hasn't been able to muster up the courage to come clean to her friends. She tells herself she needs to get used to that lonely isolated feeling because once Spencer, Hanna and Aria find out what she did to Alison, they won't want anything to do with her.

It's just past 10 o'clock when Emily arrives at the Miller's house. She quickly finds Megan and Chelsea and a couple of junior girls whose names she can never remember, and they pass her a red solo cup. She forces out a gracious smile before bringing the cup to her lips and taking a large gulp of weak beer. It's warm and watered-down and the taste makes her grimace in disgust but it'll do. She downs the remainder of her drink while the girls prattle on about the possibility that Chelsea's boyfriend might be cheating on her and then excuses herself to find another. Preferably something a little stronger if she's going to have to endure any more of this mindless chatter.

As she makes her way through the house she hears a familiar pearl of laughter ring out from the kitchen. Emily can't help but be drawn to the sound, following it till she's stoping dead in her tracks as her heart leaps into her throat. That laugh is unmistakeable to Emily, it's Alison's. Alison is at this party. The blonde is currently sitting atop the granite countertop in the Millers' kitchen surrounded by three college guys, tossing her hair over her shoulder and giggling drunkenly. Alison is dressed in dark skinny jeans and a gold chiffon top with a deep plunging neckline, and Emily has to practically tear her eyes away from Alison's chest and force herself to take a step back so she won't be caught staring.

As Emily watches the blonde hold court in the kitchen she's struck with the realization that she's never actually seen Alison drunk before. There had been a handful of times, back before Alison's disappearance, when they had managed to get their hands on alcohol. They would sneak off to Spencer's barn or Aria's basement to drink and she, Hanna, Spencer, and Aria would get drunk and giddy on cheap vodka and wine stolen from their parents. But while Alison had been there, right in the middle of it all, calling the shots and egging them on, she had always been careful to remain in control and coherent. Emily could still see Alison cooly sipping her drink, her eyes scanning the room in that deliberate calculated manner that was just so Alison, as Emily and the others indulged freely, uninhibited by the persistent wariness that seemed to weigh Alison down.

But there's no mistaking it now—Alison is clearly hammered and that careful guarded look in her eye is long gone.

Briefly Emily wonders what Alison is doing drunk and alone at this party when Alison has never trusted anyone enough to allow herself to be drunk in their presence in the past, not even Emily herself or the other girls, but Emily suspects she already knows the answer to that question. Alison is at this party for the same reason she is. To forget.

Emily can see Alison grow increasingly intoxicated as the minutes go by and apparently a drunk Alison is a flirty Alison because the way she's hanging all over those three drooling morons is making Emily's skin crawl.

One of the guys grabs a bottle from the table behind him and tops off Alison's drink, tipping the cup up to her mouth and encouraging her to swallow its contents. Alison obliges the boy and laughs behind the plastic cup, but Emily can see her eyes are glassy and her posture stiff, as if she's trying to hold herself upright. Alison's right hand is braced against the chest of a tall guy with long dark hair who stands between her legs grinning like an idiot. The guy's hands rest on Alison's hips and when he tightens his grip on her waist and tugs her roughly towards him, Alison lurches forward and falls against him lazily. The guy leans down and kisses Alison's neck sloppily as his friends whistle and laugh beside him.

Emily leans back against the far wall and watches in disgust as the guy manhandles the blonde. She wants to intervene desperately, wants to charge into the room and grab Alison by the hand and drag her away from those opportunistic creeps, but Alison ordered her to stay away and she can't go against Alison's wishes after everything she's done to her.

"Let's do body shots!" Emily hears one of the other guys suggests and his friends clap and holler in approval as Emily's stomach churns.

Emily looks on in horror as the guys maneuver Alison's body so that she's laying flat on the counter, the tall long-haired jerk shucking off his jacket to place in a crumbled bunch under her head. Alison's eyes flutter closed for a moment like she's falling asleep but snap open again when one of the guys starts pushing her shirt up towards her bra. Emily sees panic flash in the blonde's eyes for a brief moment as Alison makes an attempt to prop herself up on her elbows, but then tall long-haired guy places a hand on her stomach to keep her still and whispers something in her ear. Alison settles back against the granite with a sigh, her eyes glassy and distant.

Emily's hope that Alison will speak up and put a stop to this madness fades away when the blonde's eyes fall closed and her head lolls to the side. One of the creeps pours liquor into Alison's belly button and another quickly bends his head to press his open mouth against Alison's smooth stomach to take a drink. Alison's eyes flutter open for a moment as the guy drags his tongue across her skin and Emily notices her body stiffen and her jaw clench. Emily recognizes the look that flashes across Alison's face at the sensation, a look of anxious dread that quickly gives way to resigned acceptance, and her heart clenches because she knows that look all too well. She's been the cause of that particular look more times than she can stand to admit.

The guy finally pulls his lips away from Alison's stomach and leans up to kiss her on the mouth. And then he's propping up her head and the guy with the bottle is pouring another shot down her throat as the third guy gets in position at her mid-section. Her head drops back against the bunched up jacket as he licks a trail of salt from her stomach before taking a shot of tequila.

Emily fights every urge in her body to step forward and rip those animals away from Alison because Alison is clearly not okay. She's disoriented and barely conscious and Emily knows Alison wouldn't be allowing this group of desperate losers to grope her in public if she wasn't drunk and depressed. But all Emily can do is look on with that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach because she's a worse monster than any of these guys and interfering would only upset Alison, or worse drive her farther into the arms of these creeps.

It's killing Emily to watch these guys take advantage of Alison, but she has no right to be jealous or protective. She's a goddamn hypocrite for being appalled by their behavior because she's hurt Alison way worse, she's the one who treated Alison like some disposable sex doll. She knows she can't interfere on her own but she won't allow it to go on any longer. So she does the only thing she can think of doing in a time like this, she calls Spencer.

"I need you to come to Megan Miller's house on Lakeshore Road. Right now. I'm at a party here," Emily says, not even bothering with the pleasantries of hellos.

"Okay," Spencer says slowly. "What's wrong? Are you drunk? Do you need a ride home?"

"It's Alison."

"What's wrong with Alison?"

"She's here. Drunk and alone. She can barely keep her head up and these douchebag guys are all over her. They keep pouring tequila down her throat and she needs to get away from them before she gets hurt," Emily explains desperately.

Emily hears Spencer shuffling around on the other end of the line and a male voice she assumes is Toby asking if everything is alright.

"How is she alone if you're there? Go and get her. I'll meet you guys out front," Spencer says in her most authoritative voice.

"I can't get her. We didn't come together. She doesn't even know I'm here. You have to hurry," Emily urges. She hangs up before Spencer can question her further.

Emily presses herself against the wall and continues to watch as the long-haired guy pulls Alison back up into a sitting position and claims her mouth with his. When it becomes obvious he's not in the sharing mood, his two friends grumble in disappointment and slink away from the pair, no doubt looking for another girl to take advantage of now that their friend has claimed Alison as his own.

Despite the feeling of nausea welling up inside her at the sight, Emily forces herself to stay and watch. If this asshole attempts to take Alison out of her sight, she'll be forced to go against Alison's wishes and take action, because there's no way in hell she's going to let that happen.

When Spencer arrives she doesn't bother to hide her disgust at the sight in front of her. The guy with the long hair now has his tongue shoved so far down Alison's throat that Emily thinks her jaw must hurt. His hands are shoved under Alison's shirt, one groping at her breasts and the other wrapped around her back holding her against him.

"What the hell, Emily? She's totally wasted and that jerk is all over her. How long were you going to let this go on for?" Spencer scolds as she finds her friend amongst the crowd of on-lookers gawking at the drunken display of affection.

Emily lowers her head shamefully and follows behind Spencer as the other girl pushes her way through the group of drunken idiots assembled in the kitchen watching Alison and long-haired douchebag, as Emily has dubbed him. Emily can hear Spencer barking out commands and muttering curses under her breath as she struggles to reach the blonde.

"Alright, creep, party's over. Sleeping beauty has to go home now," Spencer says as she pulls the guy away from Alison by the back of his shirt.

"Hey! We're busy here! Why don't you mind your own damn business!" the guys cries, clearly annoyed by the unexpected interruption. He attempts to lean back in towards Alison but Spencer grabs his arm to stop him.

"Well, you see, this is my business. Because the drunk girl you're currently slobbering all over, who's clearly in no state to consent to any form of sexual contact by the way, is my friend, and no way in hell would she let you or your slimy disgusting lips touch hers if she was at all aware of what was going on right now. So get lost, she's coming with us," Spencer says firmly.

The guy turns to glare at Spencer but Spencer just pushes him aside and reaches out to grab an unsteady Alison. "Em, you wanna help me here!" she calls out.

Emily glances between Spencer and Alison before hesitantly stepping forward to assist. She doesn't want to upset Alison, especially not in front of Spencer. Fortunately, Alison appears too drunk to notice her.

"Ali, come on. Time to go home," Spencer says as she shakes the blonde to rouse her. Spencer slips an arm around Alison's waist and tries to pull her off the countertop. Alison mumbles incoherently and lets her head fall back against the hanging cabinets behind her. "Em, grab her from the other side so she doesn't fall," Spencer orders before returning her attention back to the drunk blonde. "Hey Ali, can you hop down for me?"

"Hop! Hop like a bunny," Alison slurs with her eyes closed.

Spencer groans, trying to get a good hold on the blonde. "Seriously, Ali, a little help here."

"Spencer! What are you doing here?" Alison asks when she opens her eyes and spots her friend. The blonde scoots herself to the edge of the countertop with Spencer's guidance.

"Emily called me. We're going to take you home, okay?" Spencer tells her softly.

At the mention of Emily's name, Alison whips her head to the side and gasps when she notices Emily standing awkwardly off to the side.

Alison bends her head towards Spencer's ear like she's about to tell her a secret. "She's not supposed to be here," Alison whispers.

"Yeah, why not?" Spencer asks, seemingly amused by Alison's drunkenness.

"We're not good for each other," Alison states sadly.

Spencer's brows knit in confusion and she looks to Emily for clarification but thankfully Emily is spared having to explain when Alison practically hurls herself off the countertop. Emily opens her arms as Alison's body comes crashing into her. Alison clings to her for support and God, it feels so good to have Alison's body pressed warm against hers once again. Emily wants nothing more than to wrap Alison in her arms and never let go, but it's all too much. If she doesn't let go now, she doesn't think she'll ever be able to. She forces herself to push the blonde away and Alison stumbles back on her much too high heels before Spencer can brace a hand against her back to steady her.

"What the hell, Emily?" Spencer mutters before she starts to guide a wobbly Alison to the door. Emily shakes her head and follows the pair. She doesn't think she can do this-be this close to Alison when she feels like this.

Getting Alison into the car proves to be a difficult task as the blonde is fidgety and unsteady, but Spencer is persistent and eventually Ali is laying down half-asleep in the backseat of Spencer's car. Emily climbs into the passenger seat, feeling tired and worn down.

"Hey can she stay with you tonight?" Spencer asks after they pull away from the Miller's house.

Emily startles. "What?"

"She can't go home and see her dad like this. He'll kill her. And us too probably. Besides someone should keep an eye on her."

"Okay... and why can't that somebody be you?" Emily asks.

"Because my parents think I'm sleeping at Aria's," Spencer answers carefully. Emily gives her a dubious look and Spencer continues. "Hey, don't give me that look. Toby and I have barely had any time to ourselves in weeks."

"So take her to Toby's with you."

"Yeah, that'll be real romantic," Spencer snarks.

"Just call Jason then. He's all into playing super brother now. He can take care of her," Emily says with a roll of her eyes. She's still bitter about Jason turning her away from Alison's house last week.

"Jason's out of town. Ali told me he's been staying with his girlfriend on weekends."

Emily sighs but files that information away for later. If she ever did want to confront Alison, she should do so on the weekend when her brother wasn't around to act as her personal guard dog.

"Spencer, I don't know... my mom," Emily says, scrambling for an excuse.

Spencer huffs. "Fine. Whatever. I'll take her to Toby's. I'm sure he'll just love spending date night with Alison."

"No. Don't—she can stay with me. It's fine," Emily concedes. She feels guilty enough about interrupting Spencer's night with Toby, she doesn't want to spoil it completely.

Spencer smiles and nods, clearly pleased. "Ok. Good. Thank you. That's settled then."

Emily sinks back against her seat and tries to swallow down her growing dread at the prospect of spending the night with Alison.

* * *

When they finally arrive at Emily's house, Spencer helps Emily sneak Alison in past a sleeping Pam Fields, who has finally returned from her trip to Texas. Emily will explain Alison's presence to her mother tomorrow when everyone's awake and no one's drunk.

"You're just gonna leave her like that?" Spencer asks, staring down at Alison, who's currently sprawled haphazardly across Emily's bed.

"What am I supposed to do?" Emily asks.

"Get her changed and into bed properly," Spencer says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And make her drink some water."

Emily stares at Spencer like she's crazy. The last thing she needs to be doing right now is removing any of Alison's clothes.

When Emily fails to make a move, Spencer sighs and steps towards the bed once again. "Get me some clothes for her to sleep in," Spencer orders impatiently.

Emily wordlessly scurries off to find suitable sleeping attire for Alison as Spencer starts pulling off Alison's heels.

"Here," Emily says, tossing Spencer a pair of gym shorts and a novelty tee her dad had picked up for her at a state fair in Texas.

"Ali, sit up," Spencer instructs the drunken blonde.

"I am sitting," Alison mumbles into Emily's comforter.

Spencer yanks Alison up by the arm. "No you're not. Now come on. Up you go."

Alison lets herself be pulled up into sitting position. "Don't take me home. My dad will be mad. Everyone's always mad at me."

"You're not going home. You're staying at Emily's," Spencer tells her. "Now arms up."

Alison does as she's told and Spencer pulls her top over her head, leaving the blonde in just her bra.

"Emily," Alison mutters sleepily. "I miss her."

"Well, you don't have to miss her anymore. She's right here. Em, hand me that shirt."

"Everything got messed up. Now we're broken," Alison says quietly.

Alison's eyes fall closed once again and she starts to sway and fall back towards the mattress. Spencer grabs her arm to steady her, but with only one free hand and no cooperation from Alison, her task proves to be difficult.

"Emily, can you stop staring at the floor like you've never seen a half-naked girl before and help me here? We both know you get more action than the rest of us combined and I'm pretty sure you've seen Ali in less clothes than this, so get your ass over here and help me get her dressed."

"What? No I haven't!" Emily shrieks in denial.

Spencer shoots her a curious look. "She used to wear bikinis skimpier than this when we'd go swimming," she explains. "God. What's gotten into you? You've been acting weird all night"

"Emily's gotten into me," Ali slurs and Emily's eyes widen in alarm. She doesn't know much more of this messed up situation she can take. Her nerves are frayed and she feels like her whole world can shatter at any second.

Spencer manages to slip the t-shirt over Alison's head, apparently not paying much mind to Alison's drunken rambling.

"This is not how I planned on spending my night," Spencer muses to herself as she smooths Alison's shirt down. "Ali, you gotta get out of these jeans. They appear to be full of tequila," she notes with barely concealed disgust.

"We did body shots."

"Of course you did," Spencer deadpans as she struggles to keep Alison from falling asleep. "Ali, come on, we need to get you out of these pants."

"That's all people want from me. It's all I'm good for..." Alison trails off sadly as her fingers move to the fly of her jeans. Alison's dexterity is compromised and she struggles to get the the top button open. "I can't do it," she pouts, falling back against the mattress dramatically.

"Seriously, Em, some help here?" Spencer huffs.

"I can't," Emily says, her voice wavering.

"Ok. Fine. I'll do it myself," Spencer bites out, annoyance clear in her voice. She leans over Alison and easily works the buttons of her jeans open. "Not that I'm not enjoying our time together, Ali, but you are so not who I was hoping to see naked tonight."

Emily clears her throat, unable to look at either girl. "I'm going to go get Ali some water. I'll be right back."

* * *

Emily takes her time fetching Ali's glass of water and when she returns to her room, Alison is fully changed and asleep. Spencer says her goodbyes and leaves Emily alone with the sleeping blonde.

Alison lies sprawled out on top of Emily's comforter, a mess of blonde curls framing her face. Emily takes the yellow wool blanket from the foot of her bed and throws it over the girl. Alison had been too uncooperative to get under the sheets so Spencer had eventually given up but Emily doesn't want her to get cold.

Emily sits at her window and watches Alison sleep for a while. She tells herself she's not being creepy and that she just wants to make sure Alison is okay, but really the sight of Alison asleep in Emily's bed, her body still and her face at peace makes Emily's heart swell. Rarely does Emily get to see Alison in such an unguarded state and she can't help but be struck by how young Alison looks like this.

It can be easy for Emily to forget that Alison is just a girl like her, because Ali has always seemed older and wiser. Ali has always been larger than life, an almost mythical creature who wielded secrets as weapons and rose from the dead, but as Emily takes in the rhythmic rise and fall of the blonde's chest and the peaceful expression on her face, she's reminded that Alison is just a girl who has been forced to spend almost every waking moment of the last few years fighting to survive. Emily's heart aches for the girl because she knows that when Alison wakes up, the peaceful look will vanish and that haunted wary gaze will return to Alison's crystal blue eyes as she arms herself for another day. And Emily will just be one more horrible thing in Alison's life she has to survive.

Emily considers spending the night on the window seat or sleeping on the floor, but tonight is probably the last chance she has to be close to Alison and she's too selfish to give that opportunity up. Emily slips into bed besides the blonde, careful not to actually touch her, and lets herself soak in the moment of laying next to the first girl she's ever loved. If things had been different, if she hadn't screwed up so badly, she could have had this every night, but she ruined any chance she'd ever have of being with Alison.

Despite the exhaustion that plagues her body, Emily can't manage to shut off her brain and fall asleep. She decides she'll just enjoy being close to Alison for now and slip out of bed in the morning before Alison wakes up so she won't upset her. She lays in bed silently staring up at the ceiling trying to imagine a life without Alison.

Of course her plan doesn't work out because at some point during the night, Alison shifts in her sleep and turns so she's lying on her side facing Emily. She's still asleep but her face no longer looks calm and Emily can feel her kicking her legs under the blanket. Worried that Alison might be having a nightmare, Emily moves closer to observe the blonde. Alison shifts again and burrows into Emily's side before settling down.

Emily's breath hitches and she tries to stop her body from reacting to the contact, but touching Alison is an instinct she can't turn off, and without permission, her arm reaches out to wrap around Alison's waist and pull her close. She tightens her grasp and her eyes blur with tears as she allows herself to savor the feel of Alison's body wrapped in hers arms for one last time. It feels natural to hold Alison like this and Emily doesn't know why she ever tried to fight loving Alison. But she didn't just try to fight it, she tried to destroy that love because she was too afraid to admit she still craved the one person who had hurt her the most, and she had destroyed Alison in the process.

The guilt and heartache overwhelm her and Emily has to look away from Alison for a moment to compose herself, afraid that her crying will wake the blonde. When Emily finally looks back down she sees that Alison's eyes are now open and gazing up at her. Emily gasps and makes to move away, afraid her proximity is going to frighten the blonde, but Alison grabs her by the hip to hold her.

"Stay."

Alison's voice is soft and pleading and before Emily can react, Alison is leaning forward and pressing her mouth against Emily's.

The kiss is gentle and curious and once Emily overcomes her shock, she melts into it with a contented sigh. Her hands thread through Alison's long blonde hair and she rolls onto her back, pulling Alison on top of her. Alison deepens the kiss, her tongue dipping into Emily's mouth with practiced care, and Emily moans, wanting desperately to believe that this is Alison forgiving her, that everything will be alright. But she can taste the alcohol on Alison's tongue and she knows this is nothing more than a drunken mistake on Alison's part.

Emily forces herself to pull Alison's mouth away from hers. "Ali, we can't. I'm sorry."

Alison's face drops in confusion and that's all the confirmation Emily needs to know that Alison is being driven by alcohol, not desire or forgiveness.

Emily rolls so Alison is forced to move off her. She brings a hand up to Alison's face and brushes her hair out of her eyes. "We can't do this."

"Why? Don't you like me anymore?" Alison asks and it's not in her usual cocky way, but instead she sounds broken and unsure and Emily's heart breaks all over again.

"Of course! Of course I like you. _I love you_. But... we can't," Emily says, her voice cracking with emotion.

Alison turns away looking hurt and confused and Emily hates herself a little more for causing the blonde even more pain.

"Good night, Ali," Emily whispers as she presses a kiss to Alison's hair and slips out of bed.

* * *

She could have sworn she had just closed her eyes a moment ago, but when Emily cracks an eye open to take in her surroundings, she sees that it's morning. As Emily tries to shield her eyes from the harsh sunlight filtering in through her living room window, her phone rings on the coffee table, reminding her of why she's awake at such an ungodly hour on a weekend. Emily grabs the phone and presses answer, eager to stop the shrill ringing.

Of course it's Spencer calling her, who else would be up at 7:00 am on a Saturday.

"Hello," Emily says groggily.

Spencer's response is brief, to say the least. "Open the door. I'm outside."

Emily shifts on her makeshift bed, tossing aside the afghan blanket she had been using to keep her warm. Her bones crack as she turns her head from side to side and stretches her sore muscles. Sleeping on the couch was hell on her back, but she couldn't sleep besides Alison last night after the blonde had drunkenly kissed her.

Emily shuffles over to the front door and pulls it open to reveal a stern looking Spencer Hastings.

"Spencer, do you have any idea how early it is?"

Spencer charges inside like she's searching for something. "Where's Alison?"

"She's upstairs sleeping," Emily says, yawning. "Like I said, it's early. Only crazy people are up at this time on a Saturday."

Spencer cranes her neck to look past Emily. "Did you sleep on the couch?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why? Because Ali's in my bed," Emily answers, taken aback by the question.

Spencer purses her lips and crosses her arms over her chest, her patented no-nonsense stance. "You've never had a problem sharing a bed with Alison in the past, what's the issue now?"

"There is no issue. I just... you know how Ali can be, she hogs the covers. This was easier," Emily lies. She can tell something is off with Spencer and her heartbeat quickens.

Spencer is quiet for a moment but Emily can still feel her examining her and she can't help but shrink back a bit under Spencer's harsh glare.

"Why did Ali say you weren't good for each other last night?" Spencer asks abruptly.

"What?"

"When she noticed you were there at the party...she said you shouldn't be. That you two weren't good for each other," Spencer points out.

Emily does her best to appear calm despite her growing panic. "Who knows. She was drunk."

"That's what she told me about the person who gave her that bloody lip. She said they were over because they weren't good for each other," Spencer informs her knowingly.

"So..."

"She never said he."

"What?"

"Alison never said it was a guy. She never said he. I just assumed," Spencer says.

Emily thinks she might throw up. If Spencer finds out, it's over for her. Her friends will never talk to her again. She'll have no one.

"I don't know what you're getting at here, Spencer, but my mom's upstairs sleeping and it's way too early for this," Emily says, turning away from Spencer's intense gaze and walking into the kitchen.

Of course Spencer is undeterred and follows after her to continue her interrogation. "Why didn't you approach Ali at the party yourself? Why'd you need to wait for me to show up?"

"I-I needed help. I was worried about her," Emily stammers out as she turns to face her friend's unfriendly face.

Spencer takes a step forward, her eyes narrowing in on Emily with a familiar look of determination. "Or did you need me to act as a middleman because Alison told you to stay away from her and you were afraid of creating a scene?"

Emily's heart hammers faster against her chest and she momentarily wonders if she's too young to have a heart attack. Her dad has a bad heart, maybe it's genetic. She turns her back to Spencer once more and grabs a frying pan from the stove, looking for an excuse not to have to look at the other girl any longer. Maybe she could distract Spencer with some scrambled eggs.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Emily manages to get out.

Spencer presses on, either unaware or unconcerned with Emily's mounting distress. "You two have been avoiding each other lately and whenever you are together you both act really weird."

"You're imagining things." Emily tries to sound convincing but her voice comes out strained and her hands are shaking so violently she's forced to put down the frying pan she's holding so that Spencer won't notice her trembling.

"Then why'd she say she missed you?" Spencer challenges.

"I don't know."

"You couldn't even look her in the eye last night."

Emily forces out a breathy laugh and shakes her head. "You're talking crazy, Spencer."

"It was you. You're the one who hurt Alison."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! Thanks again for reading and reviewing the last chapter and for gently encouraging me to update. I apologize for the long delay. I had initially hoped to get this chapter out before I went out vacation last month but unfortunately I couldn't make that happen, but now I'm back home and was able to find some time to write, so here it is. Sorry if this one is a little shorter than most. I wanted to get out what I had as soon as possible because I'm about to start a new job and I'm not sure how busy it'll keep me. Hopefully I'll be able to post the next chapter soon though. Let me know what you think! _

* * *

_Ali! Alison!_

Alison lets out a low disgruntled groan as the sound of her name slices through her head with skull-splitting sharpness. She rolls over and buries her head in a pillow that definitely isn't hers but somehow smells familiar. Her head is throbbing and her eye lids feel heavy, but someone is screeching her name and stomping heavily up the stairs towards her and if she's going to be able to kill whoever it is that's responsible for disturbing her sleep, she's going to have to wake up. She pushes the blanket aside and tries to open her eyes but the sunlight is too harsh and she has to snap them closed as the room spins around her.

The footsteps stop just outside the door and now she can make out another voice.

" _What the hell are you doing?"_

Alison instantly recognizes that second voice as Emily's and she finally forces herself to sit up and open her eyes. She leans forward towards the door as if that might make listening through the thick oak easier.

" _I'm getting Ali,"_ comes the response and Alison suddenly realizes that Emily is talking to Spencer. Spencer was the one calling her name like a crazy person a minute ago.

" _She's sleeping,"_ Emily says.

" _We'll see about that. God, if I had known I would have never insisted she sleep here with you last night!"_

 _Here?_ Where is here? Where the hell is she? Spencer's angry voice has Alison taking a surreptitious glance at her surroundings and realizing she's in Emily's room.

Anxiously she kicks off the blankets and feels around the bed for her cell phone. Did she call Emily last night? Did Emily invite her over? Did they hook up? Was she really so pathetic that she couldn't go more than a couple of weeks without giving in to the temptation of the stunning brunette? She needs to go over her text messages and calls from last night to try to decipher what the hell happened.

" _What do you think I did to her?"_ comes Emily's response from outside the door, her voice matching Spencer's in anger and intensity.

Alison has no idea what the two could possibly be fighting about at such an hour, but she is sure she doesn't want to deal with it right now.

" _I don't know what to think anymore,"_ she hears Spencer say before she knocks on the door. _"Alison!"_

Alison freezes as the door burst open and Spencer charges inside with Emily trailing behind her. She hears Emily speak again before she actually sees her.

"Spencer, calm down. Let her sleep. Come back later and we can talk about it," Emily says from behind Spencer.

"No. She's coming home with me," Spencer declares firmly.

"Spencer, let me explain..." Emily trails off, stopping abruptly when she spots Alison awake and staring at her from the bed.

"Ali, come on. Get your stuff," Spencer orders.

Alison glances at Emily for a moment before shifting her gaze in Spencer's direction. She can feel the tension between the two girls but she's not exactly sure why Spencer seems so upset.

"What's going on? What's with all the screaming? And why do I feel like I've been run over by a freight train?" Alison asks, her voice raspy with sleep.

"You got drunk last night at the party," Emily starts to explain carefully.

"The Hollis party? You were there too?"

Emily nods and lowers her eyes. "I went with some girls from the swim team."

"Ok. But why am I here? In your bed?" Alison asks, the pitch of her voice rising. She looks down and picks at the unfamiliar baggy t-shirt she's wearing. "And why am I wearing this hideous rodeo shirt?"

A feeling of dread twists in Alison's stomach as she considers the most obvious explanation. If she caved and slept with Emily last night after what Emily did to her, there'd be no denying how truly pathetic she is.

Spencer takes a couple of steps towards the bed, her expression unreadable. "Emily called me last night and said you were in bad shape. I picked you up from the party and drove you both back here so your dad wouldn't see you drunk," she explains quickly before coming to a pause and taking a breath. "Ali, I had no idea."

"No idea what?" Alison presses. Her head is foggy and her nerves are on edge and she just wants to know whatthe hell happened last night.

"About you and Emily," Spencer answers. "I would have never left you here if I had."

Alison can detect the anguish in her friend's voice and her mouth falls open in shock as her brain tries to process what Spencer is saying. "Excuse me?"

"Ali, I didn't..." Emily begins to explain but Alison cuts her off with a shriek of disbelief.

"You told her?!" Alison accuses angrily as she leaps from the bed and lunges towards a nervous looking Emily. She can only imagine the horrible things Emily must have said about her and the utter contempt and revulsion Spencer must now feel for her as a result. "Why the hell would you tell her?! What did you tell her?! And where the hell are my clothes? God...we didn't...did we?" Alison cries, growing increasingly agitated.

Alison's head is reeling and she's not sure if the sudden urge to vomit is simply her body's response to the copious amounts of alcohol she consumed last night, or if it's due to the fear that she had yet again given in to Emily last night. It pains her that the thought of spending a night in Emily's bed is now so distressing to her that she can feel herself grow sick as she pictures it, because Emily had once been her safe place, a constant source of comfort and stability, but now Emily is her greatest weakness and her biggest fear all wrapped into one and she can't afford to be weak or afraid anymore.

Emily's eyes widen in that helpless wounded animal way that makes Alison ache with guilt.

"No! No! Of course not. I would never...I slept on the couch in the living room. I promise!" Emily stammers out.

Spencer shakes her head, seemingly displeased, and moves to gather Alison's clothing from the floor. "Let's go, Ali, I'll take you home."

"Spencer, wait, just let me explain," Emily pleads. Her eyes are wet with tears and there's still a part of Alison that wants to reach out and wrap her in a hug.

Fortunately, she's saved from her destructive desire when Spencer shoves a pile of clothes at her and turns to exit the room. She forces herself to follow the taller girl, leaving Emily and her big sad brown eyes behind.

* * *

Alison shivers a bit once the cold air hits her legs. She looks down and cringes at the extremely short length of the shorts she's wearing.

"You could have at least let me put on pants before you dragged me outside into the cold like a dog," she complains as they make their way to Spencer's car. No one ever did explain why she was wearing Emily's clothes instead of her own, but she assumes it has something to do with the strong stench of alcohol coming from the pile of soggy clothes in her arms.

Spencer looks her over with a frown. "Sorry. I just thought it'd be best to get you out of there as soon as possible."

Spencer gets behind the wheel and Alison slips into the passenger seat. They drive in silence for a a few minutes before Alison clears her throat and prepares to speak. "So, I don't know what Emily told you," she starts awkwardly-wanting to feel out just how much Spencer knows about her and Emily.

She's still confused about what happened last night but Spencer's sour mood is even more unnerving than her lapses in memory. She hopes Spencer isn't too upset with her for getting involved with Emily, they had been in such a good place and Alison had come to genuinely appreciate their friendship. She hates the thought of having disappointed yet another person in her life.

"How long?" Spencer cuts in.

"What?"

"How long has this _thing_ with you and Emily been going on for?" Spencer asks, the contempt clear in her voice.

Alison sighs and turns her head to look out the window. She can practically feel the anger coursing through Spencer and the last thing she needs right now is to be chewed out and accused of manipulating Emily's feelings again.

"I'm too hung over to have this conversation with you right now," Alison decides.

"Fine. We won't talk about Emily," Spencer says cooly. "How about we talk about your reckless behavior last night instead."

Alison slumps back in her seat and lets her head rest against the cool glass of the passenger window as she listens to Spencer's lecture about drinking safety and the importance of the buddy system in dangerous situations. She's grateful to Spencer for still caring about her safety despite being pissed at her, but she sort of wishes she had taken her chances facing the wrath of her father last night instead.

* * *

"Looks like my dad's not home. And judging by the zero texts I got from him asking why I never I came home last night, I can tell he must have been super worried about me," Alison snarks when they pull up to the DiLaurentis house.

Spencer gives her a sympathetic look. "I'll walk you in."

"That's really not necessary."

"We need to talk, Ali," Spencer insists.

Alison relents, knowing that Spencer won't, and leads Spencer into the house. Alison marches straight to the kitchen and retrieves two bottles of water from the fridge. She offers one to Spencer before twisting the cap off her own and taking a long drink. Alcohol induced dehydration is no fun. She leans back against the kitchen counter and peers at Spencer over the top of her water bottle.

"So have you met Jason's new girlfriend?" Spencer asks conversationally.

"No. Not yet. I've seen pictures and heard a lot about her though. He seems happy," Alison answers, her lips curling into a small smile at the thought of her brother finally finding a bit of happiness.

"Good. He deserves that," Spencer responds with a nod. She takes a couple of sips of water before continuing. "Does he spend a lot of time there? In Philadelphia with..." she trails off.

"Leah," Alison finishes. "Lately, yes. Can't really blame him for not wanting to stick around here too much."

"So it's just you and your dad mostly?"

"When he's home. He keeps himself pretty busy with work."

"Must get lonely here in this big house all by yourself," Spencer suggests and Alison starts to feel like this is becoming more of an interrogation than a conversation.

"Sometimes. It can," Alison shrugs.

Spencer nods and takes another sip of her water before continuing. "Being alone isn't so bad. I like it actually. Gives me a chance to clear my head, you know. And it may not seem like it, but being alone is a lot better than being with someone who's maybe not good for you right now."

"Spencer, where are you going with this?" Alison asks, narrowing her eyes at her friend's very obvious digging expedition.

"What happened with you and Emily?"

Alison sighs. "Spencer, I thought we agreed not to talk about this."

"I know. But.." Spencer starts, unwilling to drop the topic.

"Can we do this another day? Preferably one where I'm not retaining two litters of liquor in my blood stream?" Alison says, interrupting the high strung brunette before she could badger her further.

"Alison."

"Spence, please, I'm tired and hung over. I just want to take a shower and sleep for about twelve hours."

"I just don't understand," Spencer says, starting to pace the kitchen floor. Her brows are pinched in thought as she picks at her fingernails with her teeth. She no longer seems angry, just perplexed. Like she's trying to solve a mystery and for Alison, that Hastings curiosity is much worse than anger. "Why would Emily do that. It's not like her. Emily's never hurt anyone... was it just a sex thing?"

Alison nearly chokes on her water because that's not at all what she expected Spencer to say.

"Excuse me?"

"Those marks you had on your wrists that day you came by my house... like someone held you down," Spencer clarifies rather bluntly. "Was it just rough sex? Did you want Emily to do that?"

"W-what?" Alison stammers out in utter disbelief.

"It's Emily. She wouldn't..." Spencer trails off as she seemingly struggles with organizing her thoughts. "Some people are into that sort of thing and that's fine if you are. I'm not judging," she declares, holding up her hands to prove her open-mindedness. "But it's _Emily_ , she wouldn't intentionally hurt you."

Realization strikes Alison and she instantly deflates. Of course Spencer would think that. Emily is a good person and she's Alison DiLaurentis, devil incarnate.

"Yeah. You're right. She wouldn't. I wanted it. I'm into that," Alison says, her voice twinged with sadness.

Spencer stops pacing and fixes her eyes on the blonde. "You know after all this time I finally figured out how to tell when you're lying," she begins. "The corners of your eyes crinkle just slightly and you scrunch your nose a bit and look off to the left. So I know you're lying to me right now."

"What do you want from me, Spencer?" Alison groans tiredly. She feels like she's in some sort of twisted emotional tennis match and she's ready to throw in the towel.

"I want you to tell me the truth about Emily," Spencer says. "Because if you didn't want that, then... "

"Look, Spencer, what Emily and I do in the bedroom is none of your business," Alison replies sharply.

"When one of my friends is being hurt, I make it my business."

"God, I knew that was what you were worried about!" Alison snaps, unconcerned with how irrational her thoughts may actually be. "I'm not going to hurt Emily again! We're not even together! It's over. So you can stop worrying about your precious little Emily," Alison finishes bitterly.

"I'm not worried about Emily, I'm worried about you," Spencer says calmly.

Alison shifts and uncrosses her arms, her defenses slipping slightly. This entire morning has been so confusing. "Oh. Well, there's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

"Cut the shit, Ali. You and I both know what you and Emily are doing isn't healthy for either of you."

"We're not _doing_ anything. I told you, it's over," Alison insists.

Spencer remains skeptical. "I sincerely hope so, Alison."

"You're making a much bigger deal out of this than you need to. Emily and I have history. It's complicated." Alison just needs Spencer to understand without her actually having to explain it.

"What's so complicated? You start sleeping with Emily and then you show up with bruises all over you!"

Alison shakes her head, annoyed at Spencer's simplification of the situation. "It wasn't like that. We got together and she got a little carried away. That's all. It happens. She stopped...when she realized what she was doing, she stopped," Alison says, trying hard not to think about their last night together. Deep down she's not so sure Emily would have stopped if she hadn't snapped the brunette out of whatever state of mind she was in that night.

"Jesus, Ali, do you hear yourself?" Spencer asks incredulously. "What Emily did to you wasn't right. You don't deserve that."

Alison fixes her eyes on Spencer with a cold glare. "I think we both know I deserve much worse."

She doesn't need Spencer's judgement or pity.

"God, no, Ali, no one deserves to be treated that way," Spencer says, her voice a breathy whisper. She rests a hand on Alison's arm and implores the blonde to meet her eyes. "Is that why you've been allowing her to do this? Because you think you deserve to be punished for your past?

Alison's eyes shine with tears and when she finally opens her mouth to speak, her voice is small and quiet. "I hurt a lot of people, Spencer. Emily probably worst of all. I owe her."

"Owe her what?" Spencer demands incredulously. "Sex? The opportunity to use you as a human punching bag?"

"It's not like that. She could be aggressive but she didn't hit me. Only that one time because I spaced out and she..."

"Alison, stop," Spencer cuts in sharply. "Don't defend that kind of behavior."

"No. You don't understand, Spencer. Emily is different now. She's so angry and unhappy and I did that to her. It's my fault!" Alison cries. "You said it yourself, Emily isn't the kind of person who would hurt someone. I turned her into that. That's what I do to people. I turn them into monsters. I'm poison. Look at what I did to Mona. And to Shana. I'm the reason Emily changed and I couldn't just walk away from her. Not after all the damage I've done. I had to try to fix it."

Spencer gives her a soft look of concern. "What was it you thought you could do for her?"

"I thought I could help her get past it. Get it out of her system so she could forgive me and move on and be happy again. But it didn't work. I failed," Alison says sadly. Alison has never been particularly fond of failure, but no failure was quite as painful for her as failing Emily was.

"So you thought by letting her use you, she'd get over her issues and go back to normal? It doesn't work like that, Ali," Spencer says.

"I know that now. Okay? Believe me, I know," Alison agrees. "I was stupid for thinking I could repair all the damage I've done. But I didn't know what else to do for her. She was in so much pain."

"You don't need to do anything for her, Ali. You need to take care of yourself right now."

Alison can't help but laugh at that. "Bet you never thought you'd be telling me to be even more selfish than I already am, did you?

"No," Spencer admits easily. "And I can't believe I'm about to say this either... but Ali, you need to stay away from Emily. At least for now. She's not good for you and she's only going to keep hurting you if you don't keep your distance."

"That's not going to be easy. I couldn't even stay away from her when I was dead."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** _I'm really sorry this chapter took so long to get out to you all and I just want to thank everyone who continued to leave reviews and write me messages asking me to continue this story. I never planned on abandoning it, but it's been hard to find the time to work on it with all I have going on lately and getting those notes from people wanting to read more were really encouraging and definitely helped me refocus on writing. So here's chapter 11, hope you like it._

* * *

Alison spots Emily's clothes in a pile on the floor of her bathroom as she towels off her wet hair. After Spencer left, Alison had been in such a hurry to wash off the remnants of the previous night that she hadn't really thought about whose clothes she was shedding before she stepped under the hot stream of water. She had recognized the t-shirt and shorts while she was still in Emily's room but she still has so many questions regarding last night. Spencer had given her the abridged version of events during her lecture and she wasn't exactly proud of her choices, but she had been too nervous to ask who was responsible for getting her out of her own clothes and into Emily's.

Wearing Emily's slightly too big t-shirt had once been a comfort to Alison. In the past when she would sleep over the brunette's house she'd often intentionally forget to bring a pair of pajamas so she'd be forced to borrow Emily's. Back then Alison hadn't thought of it as romantic, it had just been safe and familiar. Like Emily. But now that too was sullied and what Alison can rationalize was probably an act of kindness, just feels like another violation.

After dressing in pair of leggins and a long sweater, Alison scoops up the offending garments from the bathroom floor and dumps them in the wash. She makes sure to answer Jason's "checking in" text message from earlier in the morning before climbing into bed and pulling the covers over her head, eager to shut out the world in favor of a few needed hours of sleep.

She sleeps for a while, maybe a bit too long, but she's still not at all happy to be woken up by the doorbell later that evening. Her head still hurts and she's still a little hung over and she swears if it's Spencer coming to lecture her some more, she's going to kill her.

But it's not Spencer standing on her front porch. Much to Alison's surprise, it's Emily, looking lost and afraid. She reminds Alison of a small child who lost her puppy on a walk and is too scared to go home and tell her parents the truth. Alison supposes that makes her the lost puppy in the equation.

Alison runs a hand through her messy bed hair and tries to clear the sleep from her throat. She hopes Emily didn't notice the hitch in her breath when she first opened the door. "What are you doing here?" she asks, crossing her arms across her chest defensively.

Emily rocks back on her heels and shoves her hands in her pockets, her eyes dancing between Alison and the ground. Alison notes Emily's tense body language and nervous ticks and she can't help but feel a little relieved by the brunette's obvious anxiety. She knows it's petty, and it's probably more "old her" than "new her" to take joy in someone else's discomfort, but why should she be the only one suffering.

"I need to talk to you. Can I come in?" Emily asks.

Alison thinks for a moment before deciding to step outside, forcing Emily to take several steps back. She pulls the door closed behind her and looks up at Emily defiantly. "We can talk out here."

"Ali, come on. You don't have to be afraid of me. Lets just go inside."

"I'm not afraid of you," Alison insists, although the jelly-like feeling in her legs says otherwise. "We talk out here or we don't talk at all," Alison declares, a hint of challenge to her voice.

It wasn't that she was afraid to be alone with Emily—well, maybe a little, but more than that she felt the need to assert herself. To get her way no matter how trivial the matter was. So if Emily wanted to talk inside, well then she sure as hell wasn't going to allow that.

"Fine. Out here it is," Emily agrees, turning and taking a seat on Alison's front porch

Alison watches Emily settle in on the top step, her small victory in venue choice feeling somewhat hollow. She feels Emily's eyes on her as she takes a seat on the step besides the brunette, the proximity between them not going unnoticed by either girl.

"So how are you feeling?" Emily starts. "I'm surprised you're able to stand after last night." She forces out a small laugh and smiles in Alison's direction, desperately trying to ease the tension.

But Alison isn't feeling charitable so she makes no attempt to match Emily's mood. "I've seen better days," she says mildly.

Undeterred by Alison's coldness, Emily soldiers on."I wasn't expecting to see you at the party last night. I didn't know you were friends with Megan Miller."

"I'm not. I know her brother Jeff."

Emily nods and mutters a muted "oh" in response.

"I'd say I was surprised to see you there too, but I don't actually remember seeing you," Alison says as she stares straight ahead into the fading sunlight.

"Yeah. You were pretty wasted."

"So I've heard. You're not here to lecture me about drinking responsibly and making smarter choices, are you? Because Spencer already covered all that on the drive home this morning," Alison tells her.

"I'm sure she did," Emily chuckles. "And no, I'm not here to lecture you."

"Good. I'm not usually that careless when it comes to alcohol. You know that."

Alison picks at a loose thread on the sleeve of her sweater. She's still getting used to the idea of an Emily she can't trust, an Emily that makes her anxious and afraid, an Emily who would hurt her. She's not unaccustomed to regarding people with caution, she just never expected Emily to be one of those people.

"So what happened last night?" Emily asks softly and Alison wants to scream at her for using that tone of voice—that soft, gentle, prodding voice that makes it sound like Emily actually cares about her. How dare she act like she still cares.

"I just needed a break," Alison finds herself admitting. "Just a few hours where I could turn my brain off and not have to think or worry about anything. I guess I got carried away."

"I get that," Emily agrees quietly.

Finally Alison turns to face the brunette, her eyes hard and demanding. "Why are you here, Emily?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. Spencer rushed you out of my house so quickly this morning we didn't really get a chance to talk," Emily answers.

"What could we possibly have to talk about?"

"Ali," Emily starts, her voice cracking and her eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry. I don't know if you'll ever forgive me but I need you to know, I never meant to hurt you. I was wrong to blame you for Sara leaving. I was angry and hurt about so many things and I took it all out on you. You didn't deserve that."

Alison remains stone-faced, unmoved by Emily's cries. "Okay. Is that all?"

Emily reaches out to place a tentative hand on Alison's knee but Alison instinctively jerks away. Emily's face falls in disappointment as she folds her hands back in her lap.

"Yeah. I just needed to apologize again. I need you to know how truly sorry I am," Emily says, her eyes boring into Alison's own. "I try not to think about that night. About any of it really, because that wasn't me. I don't even know that girl who did those things and I'm so ashamed and disgusted with myself that I..." she trails off, stopping to wipe her tears. "But seeing you last night with those guys...I couldn't bare the thought of someone else hurting you that way. And I know I could apologize to you every day for the rest of my life and it won't be enough, but I'll never stop being sorry. I'll never forgive myself for treating you like that."

"Well, thank you. For last night," Alison says plainly. She doesn't doubt Emily's sincerity but the words feel empty and Alison remains unmoved by Emily's tear-filled apology. She feels nothing and she briefly wonders if maybe she and Emily are past the point of apologizes.

Alison gets lost in thought but pulls back sharply when she feels Emily's lips brush against hers. "What the hell are you doing?" she demands.

"I thought...you...I was," Emily starts sputtering nervously.

"You thought because you said you're sorry I could forget how it felt to be pinned beneath you on that bed? How terrifying it was to realize what was happening and know I couldn't stop you? How much it hurt when you shoved your fingers inside me?" Alison cuts in sharply, her voice harsh and angry "You think that's all it takes? You string along some pathetic attempt at an apology and then we kiss and make up?"

Emily's eyes widen and her face pales in horror. "Alison, I would have never..." she breathes out raggedly.

"You did!" Alison shrieks, her hands balling into fists. "You know what-no. I'm not doing this," Alison says firmly, shaking her head and jumping to her feet. "I appreciate the apology and maybe one day the thought of you touching me won't make me physically ill, but I can't just forgive you and pretend everything's okay now. It's not okay! What you did is not okay! You were my best friend, Emily! I trusted you! I loved you! You weren't supposed to do that to me!" Alison cries, no longer able to keep her emotions in check.

"Alison. Please, can't we just try again?" Emily pleads.

"Try what? We're not friends and we're definitely aren't going to be more than friends now. There's no going back. We screwed up any chance we ever had at being together and we both have to accept that and move on. Let's just continue to keep our distance."

She slams the door behind her, leaving Emily alone and crying on the porch.

* * *

Spencer comes by later that night under the guise of wanting to watch a movie but Alison suspects her true motive is to check up on her. Normally the thought of being monitored like she's a child or some sort of out of control addict who can't be left to her own devices would irritate her, but truthfully a part of her agrees with Spencer's assessment of her. When it comes to Emily, Alison doesn't trust herself so she doesn't blame Spencer for doubting her too. Besides Jason's in Philadelphia and her dad is in his room pretending she doesn't exist, so she could use the company.

"I saw you earlier. On your porch with Emily," Spencer tells her after they settle in on Alison's bed to watch some Ryan Gosling movie Spencer brought over that Alison has never heard of.

That wasn't new for Alison—being unfamiliar with a song or movie her friends were talking about. It was kind of isolating to be so out of touch, but it's not like she had a whole lot of time to get to the movies while she was on the run or in jail. She didn't like bringing it up to the girls and reminding them of why she hadn't heard a particular song or seen a certain show, so when Spencer had excitedly suggested this particular movie, expecting Alison to share in her interest, Alison had just gone along with the idea.

Alison sighs. "So you're stalking me too now?"

"I was coming back from a run after dinner and I saw you two sitting out there," Spencer answers, easily dismissing Alison's annoyance. "Are you guys getting back together?

"We were never together, Spencer. We were just fucking," Alison dead-pans. "But no, we won't be going back to doing that either."

Spencer nods, uncharacteristically at a loss of words.

"She apologized. I think she actually meant it too," Alison says after a moment. Her eyes are still locked on the screen in front of her but she's finding it hard to concentrate on the movie.

"I'm sure she did. But that doesn't mean you have to..."

"I know, Spencer," Alison cuts her off. Because she does. She gets it. She doesn't need Spencer to give her another speech about how she's worth more than that, because she's honestly not sure that she is, but she knows going back to Emily isn't an option. Still, she feels a little bad about being so harsh with Emily earlier. Who was she to deny someone else forgiveness when she had needed to ask for so much of it?

Alison decides a change of topic is needed. She gives up her ruse of pretending to be interested in the movie and turns on her side so that she's facing Spencer. "Jason called. He's coming home tomorrow and he's bringing Leah."

Spencer raises an eyebrow and grins. "So you finally get to meet the elusive new girlfriend?"

"We're supposed to go out to dinner at that new Sushi place on Cedar."

"Sounds nice."

"Why don't you come?" Alison blurts out.

"What?" Spencer asks, clearly surprised by the request.

"He's your brother too and you'd be saving me from being the awkward third wheel."

"Ali, I don't know if that'd be the best idea," Spencer hedges carefully. "Has Jason even explained the whole DiLaurentis/Hastings family tree to her?"

Alison doesn't know the answer so she ignores the question. "Please, Spence, I don't want to do this alone," she pleads.

"Okay, fine. If Jason doesn't mind," Spencer relents.

Alison smiles, satisfied with getting her way. "Why would he mind? Dinner with his two favorite sisters? He'll be thrilled."

Spencer lets out a hearty laugh.

"God. This poor girl has no idea what she's getting herself into," Alison remarks before the two friends turn their attention back to Ryan Gosling.

* * *

When Alison returns from Church Sunday afternoon she finds Jason's car parked in the driveway. "So where is she?" Alison asks, finding Jason reading the newspaper alone in the living room.

"I dropped her off at Hollis. She's has a meeting with someone there about her company's intern program," he explains.

Alison nods, absorbing the information. "So you sure you don't mind that I invited Spencer tonight?"

"No, it's cool. It'll be nice to get to spend time with the both of you."

"You're not afraid Leah will be scared off by our family's twisted web of dysfunction?" Alison asks wryly.

Jason folds the newspaper and puts it aside. "I already told her the truth about me and who my biological father is. I really want this to work and the only way that's possible is if I'm honest. Completely honest. She knows everything."

" _Everything?_ Even about Charles?" Alison questions curiously.

Jason nods slowly. "Total honesty. It's the only way."

Alison arches an eyebrow, surprised to see how far her brother has come over the years. She envies the progress he seems to be making. She's been working on being more honest herself, but there's still a small part of her that feels the need to hold onto secrets for protection.

They agree to meet at the restaurant at 7 o'clock and Jason leaves to pick up Leah and show her around Rosewood.

* * *

"I have no shoes that go with this dress," Alison huffs. She studies herself in the floor-length mirror in her bedroom and frowns. "I should have bought new shoes. Or a new dress." She kicks off the blue pumps she's currently wearing and slips on a pair of saddle brown suede wedges.

"That's the fourth pair of shoes you've tried on and all of them have looked fine. Are you seriously this nervous about dinner?" Spencer asks. The brainy brunette is currently sprawled across Alison's bed, idly scrolling through Instagram as she impatiently waits for her friend to get ready.

"I just want to look nice," Alison says, modeling the new shoes in the mirror.

"You do look nice. You looked nice three pairs of shoes ago. Besides, Jason's the one dating her, not you," Spencer points out, tossing her phone aside.

"I know," Alison bites back. She runs her hands down the sides of her dress to smooth the non-existent wrinkles and tilts her head from side to side to observe her final look. "I just want tonight to go well. Jason has never made the effort to include me in his life like this before. And Leah is important to him. He really likes her and I want her to like me."

"She will like you, Ali. And not because of your shoes," Spencer tells her seriously.

"You have to admit, these shoes do make my legs look great though, right?" Alison smirks, finally satisfied with her selection.

Spencer shakes her head and laughs at her friend. "Yes, they do."

Alison gives her hair one final comb through and the pair set off to meet Jason and Leah at the restaurant.

Dinner goes surprisingly well. Conversation flows easily as the foursome discusses everything from the latest death on Games of Thrones to the merits of the Philadelphia transit system. Alison can feel herself relax a bit for the first time in weeks as they laugh and trade stories. Leah is smart and sweet and funny and everything Alison could wish for her brother. Not to mention, she's also beautiful.

"Ali, can you stop dissecting your food and just eat it," Jason jokingly scolds as Alison stabs at her salad.

"Half this salad is tomatoes," Alison grumbles.

"Not a fan of tomatoes?" Leah asks with a kind smile.

"No," Alison answers emphatically as she spears another tomato with her fork. "And my plate is practically overflowing with them." Her face scrunches in disgust as she pushes the tomatoes to the corner of her plate, trying to keep them from touching her lettuce.

When she looks up everyone is staring at her and she feels a little self-conscious about being so picky.

She never liked tomatoes and has always picked them out of her food, but lately she's been more compulsive about it than usual. She doesn't want them anywhere near her salad and the thought of them in her plate is making her skin crawl. She may not be able to keep her life from spiraling out of control, but she will have a tomato free salad if it's the last thing she does.

"Why didn't you just order it without the tomatoes?" Spencer asks.

"I didn't want to be difficult. I didn't know there'd be so many," Alison admits, thoroughly embarrassed by the attention her compulsive behavior is now garnering.

"Here, I'll take them. I love tomatoes," Leah offers. She slides her plate over to Alison and shovels the offending food into it with her fork.

Alison feels herself relax again once her salad is in order and there's no longer a trace of tomato on her plate. She settles back against her seat and smiles gratefully at Leah, whom she suspects doesn't actually love tomatoes, but is just trying to take the focus off her. Leah squeezes her arm in acknowledgment and moves the conversation along to the next topic without missing a beat.

When Leah compliments Alison's shoes on the way out of the restaurant, Alison beams and shoots Spencer a self-satisfied smirk before offering to take Leah to the little boutique in town where she got them. Much to Alison's surprise, Leah excitedly takes her up on her offer and the two set up a "shopping date" for the following afternoon. Leah even offers to pick her up after school so they could have as much time shopping as possible.

"You guys sure you don't want to come to the movie with us?" Jason asks as he and Leah walk the girls to Spencer's car.

"No that's okay. I'm already stealing your girl tomorrow afternoon, I'll let you have her to yourself for the night," Alison teases. Jason and Leah laugh and Alison can't help but think how nice it is to see her brother smile.

"Text me when you get home. Both of you," Jason instructs as they near Spencer's SUV.

Alison rolls her eyes. "Jason, we're only a couple of miles away from the house."

"Just do it. And be careful. There's a lot of drunk drivers on the roads at this time. And don't text while you drive."

"She's not an idiot, Jason. We'll be fine. You better get going or you'll be late for your movie," Alison reminds him. She says a quick goodbye to Leah and hops in the car.

"Gees. Has he always been this over-protective?" Spencer asks.

"Not at all. This is all new," Alison laughs as she adjusts her seatbelt. She looks back to see Jason with his arm around Leah watching them pull away from the curb.

Spencer checks her mirrors and seamlessly merges into traffic, keeping her eyes on the road as she talks. "Well, all things considered, I don't blame him for worrying"

"Yeah, I get it," Alison says. "And I don't blame him for going overboard either. We didn't have much of a relationship before so this big brother thing is kind of new to him. He seems to be taking the role rather seriously."

"I could see that," Spencer notes with a laugh. "So tonight went well."

"It did," Alison agrees. "Thank you for coming."

"What kind of sister would I be if I didn't take an interest in who our brother is dating? She could be our future sister-in-law someday!" Spencer declares seriously, but there's a hint of teasing in her tone and Alison can't help but smile at Spencer's use of the term "our brother." It's nice to share something so important with someone she cares about.

When Alison had first learned the truth about Jason's parentage, she had thought of it as just another juicy secret she could use to her advantage. It had offered her so much leverage-over her mom, her dad, Jason, Melissa, Mr. and Mrs. Hastings, and of course Spencer. And rather than deal with the disappointment of learning that her mother had been unfaithful to her father or confront the lies her parents had told her, Alison had been content to add yet another secret to her arsenal of weapons in the game of mental warfare that had been her life. But now the secret is out and all that remains of it is an undeniable connection to one of her best friends. No they weren't quite sisters, but they would always be connected.

They fall into a comfortable silence and Alison loses herself in watching the trees outside her window flash by in a dark blur as they drive.

"So Emily's been texting me all night." Spencer's cautious voice disrupts the stillness of the car as she turns her head slightly to gauge Alison's reaction out of the corner of her eye.

"Has she?" Alison asks, trying to sound disinterested.

"She wants to talk. About you, I'd imagine," Spencer elaborates.

Alison isn't sure what to say to that so she doesn't say anything.

Loath to ever let something go so easily, Spencer presses on. "Have you given any more thought to what you're going to do? About Emily?"

Alison sighs, annoyed with Spencer's insistence that she face her problems. "Spence, come on, we just had a nice night. Why ruin it now?"

"Because you need to talk about this. You can't just ignore it and pretend nothing happened," Spencer insists.

"You'd be surprised at how well I could do exactly that," Alison mutters.

"I'm serious, Ali. You need to decide how you're going to deal with this. You need a plan."

Alison slumps back against her seat and rolls her eyes petulantly. A plan? What kind of plan was she supposed to devise? She can tell from the way Spencer's eyes widen when she talks and the rising pitch of her voice that this isn't something Spencer's going to let her brush off that easily though.

But she's in no mood to talk about Emily at the moment. Not when things had been going well, so well, in fact, that she had hardly thought about Emily all night. Okay, maybe she thought about Emily when she was picking the tomatoes out of her salad—Emily used to eat them for her, and when Leah had mentioned wanting to go to the beach when the weather got warmer—Emily loved to swim of course, but that was it. But now Spencer wanted her to face the reality of her and Emily's disastrous relationship and she just couldn't do it.

"I could try faking my own death and running away again. That worked pretty well last time."

"This isn't a joke, Ali," Spencer snaps.

"I don't know, okay? I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel or how to act when I see her. I don't know how to live in a world where Emily isn't _Emily_ ," Alison admits, her voice straining as she tries not to cry _._

At Alison's confession, Spencer pulls the car over to the side of the road and parks. They're still several blocks away from their houses but they're in the neighborhood, parked in front of some strangers' house.

Spencer turns in her seat so that she could address Alison directly. "So where does that leave you?"

"I don't hate her. I don't think I could even if I wanted to. But I can't forget what she did either," Alison answers truthfully. She thinks back to Friday night. Her recollection of the nigh is hazy to say the least, but she's starting to remember bits and pieces. She remembers rolling over in Emily's bed and finding the brunette's deep brown eyes staring back at her. She remembers their lips meeting and their bodies pressing together. She remembers Emily pulling away and feeling like something had been violently ripped away from her all over again. "She said she loved me the other night after the party. I don't remember much but I remember her saying she loved me," Alison says.

"And?" Spencer prods.

Alison shrugs. "It was nice to hear."

"Alison, that's not love," Spencer states matter-of-factly.

"I don't need the speech," Alison huffs.

"I think you do!"

"You don't get it."

"What don't I get?" Spencer demands.

Alison wipes at the tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand and shakes her head. "People love you. Your family, Toby, your friends."

"And?"

"And I'm not like you! It's different for me. I don't... no one... it's just different," Alison tells her quietly.

Spencer looks at her with a mix of realization and pity. "Ali, Emily isn't the only one who loves you."

Spencer sounds pretty adamant but Alison's isn't so sure.

"Can you just drive?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** _Once again, I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out to you. I'm not abandoning this story, I'm just finding it harder to carve out time to work on it with all I have going on but I apologize for not getting this update out sooner. Thank you so much for continuing to read and review despite by lackluster updating skills. As always, please let me know what you think._

* * *

Emily glances over the list her mother texted her one more time. Locking her car with her key fob, she shoves her phone into her back pocket and walks towards the shops on Main Street. Her mom is having a couple of friends over for dinner tonight and asked Emily to pick up some things on her way home from practice. Of course Pam Fields can't have company over without having fresh flowers on display, so the Rosewood Florist is the first stop on her list.

After picking up a bouquet of lilies from the florist and some fresh vegetables from the speciality grocer, Emily makes her way back to the car. As she places her packages in the trunk she catches a flash of blonde hair from across the street. She cranes her head to get a better look, feeling a little silly to even be checking, so she's more than a little surprised to discover that it actually is Alison sitting at a table outside the Grille directly across from her parked car.

There had been a time when Emily had gazed at every girl with long blonde hair with unbridled hope, holding her breath and praying that when they turned around she'd once again be staring into the beautiful blue eyes of the first girl she ever loved. But after countless disappointments and false alarms, she had learned to let go. To accept that Alison was gone because it hurt too much to let her heart soar with hope only to have it come crashing back down to Earth and crack into pieces every time it wasn't Alison. But then Alison had come back to her-spinning around in her red coat, her gorgeous blonde hair swaying in the wind and falling perfectly around her beautiful face. And Emily had felt ashamed for ever giving up on Alison, because Alison was not the type of person you give up on.

And now, despite having had Alison back in her life for a while, Emily's heartbeat still quickens at the unexpected sight of her. It wasn't that she was looking for Alison today or even hoping to see her at the moment, the universe just has a funny way of keeping them in each other's orbit.

Emily considers approaching the blonde and trying yet again to apologize, but as she walks around her car to get closer she realizes that Alison isn't alone. Alison is sitting across from a stunning brunette with long legs and a killer smile. Emily can't help but glare at the pair as the other woman reaches across the table and helps herself to the tomatoes in Alison's salad, giving Ali a playful wink before popping one in her mouth.

Before Alison's disappearance, Emily would often offer to make a trade: her olives for Ali's tomatoes, because she knew Alison hated tomatoes and usually picked them out of her food. It became such a routine thing between the two of them that eventually they stopped even asking each other and just silently completed the exchange whenever they shared a meal. It wasn't that Emily was particularly fond of tomatoes or that she disliked olives, but she loved that she and Alison had this little domestic routine that was just theirs. And she knew Alison loved it too.

Emily can't help but wonder who the mystery woman is. She seems so comfortable with Alison and Emily isn't proud of the pang of jealousy she feels at watching Alison laughing and talking so freely with her. She can't recall the last time she's seen Alison so relaxed and happy.

The longer Emily stares at the two women, the more her head burns and her legs itch with the urge to charge across the street and ask Alison what the hell she's doing. Fortunately, Emily is spared from potentially making another terrible decision when her mom calls and asks when she'll be home. She still has to make one more stop at the dry cleaners before it closes so she can't afford to stand and stare at Alison any longer.

Emily's so preoccupied by thoughts of Alison and her new mystery woman that she nearly blows a stop sign on her way home. When she finally does make it home, somehow still in tact despite her distracted state, she drops her mother's packages in the kitchen and begrudgingly helps Pam unpack the bag of groceries. After making quick work of her task, Emily mumbles an excuse about needing to finish some Math homework before dinner in hopes of retreating to her room to brood some more about Alison in private.

Pam nods, pausing her vegetable chopping to fill a vase with water for the flowers Emily brought home. "Joy and Caroline will be here in an hour. And when you come back down for dinner, I'll expect you to have left that sour mood behind," her mother informs her sternly.

Emily slinks away feeling slightly embarrassed for being chastised for her mood like a sullen toddler, but she can't seem to shake Alison out of her head.

* * *

"So Emily, have you decided where you'll be going to college next year?" Joy asks as Emily sets down a bowl of sautéed broccoli on the dining room table.

Emily suppresses the eye roll she feels coming on at the question she's heard dozens of times over the past couple of months and smiles politely at her mother's former colleague. "I'm still deciding," she answers evasively. Pam smiles proudly from the head of the table and begins to rattle off the list of schools Emily has been accepted into but Emily can't exactly share in her mother's enthusiasm.

Even though her high school days are winding down, college still seems so far away, like an unattainable dream reserved for other people. It's not that she doesn't want to get out of Rosewood and go to college and live a normal life, but it's just so hard to look forward when she still feels like she's drowning in her current problems. Until A is officially out of the picture and she makes things right with Alison, she doesn't even want to hear about college, so she'd appreciate it if every adult she crosses paths with would stop asking her about it.

Emily gamely fields the usual questions about her life from her mother's friends during dinner: _How's school?_ Good. _Does she still swim?_ No. _Does she miss it?_ Yes. _Is she excited about graduation?_ If she can get there. _Is she seeing anyone?_ Nope.

By time dinner comes to an end, Emily is emotionally exhausted and eyeing the bottle of wine on the table longingly. She could really use something to take the edge off tonight but there's no way she can manage to get it past her mother's watchful eye. Instead she says goodbye to Joy and Caroline and wishes her mother a good night before heading back upstairs to her room to settle in for another restless night.

* * *

"These belong to you."

Emily freezes at the sound of the familiar voice, her heart leaping into her throat and forming a lump there that makes it difficult to form words. Slowly she pulls her head back from her locker to see Alison standing beside her holding a neatly folded pair of shorts and t-shirt in her arms.

Emily takes the clothes from Alison's extended hands and runs her fingers over the words printed across the front of the shirt. Her mind flashes back to that first night in Alison's room when she had barged in on Alison folding her laundry and unleashed a frenzy of rage and accusations at the unsuspecting blonde. Her head burns with guilt as she recalls the look of pain and confusion that had flashed across Alison's face as Emily had pushed her down on the bed that night. Alison had eventually given herself over to Emily's aggressive hands, but not before burning that haunting look into Emily's memory.

If she hadn't gone to Alison's house that night when she had been so angry and hurt, things would be different now. They would still be friends. Possibly more. Spencer wouldn't be avoiding her. A wouldn't be threatening her. And Alison wouldn't be afraid to make eye contact with her.

"Thanks," Emily mutters, trying to shake off her regret.

Alison gives a curt nod and quickly turns on her heels to leave.

"Ali, wait!" Emily calls out suddenly, a pain building in her chest at the sight of Alison walking away from her.

Slowly Alison turns back towards Emily, her expression neutral.

"I saw you yesterday," Emily blurts out abruptly. "At the Grille."

Alison remains still and silent, her curious blue eyes blinking back at Emily.

Emily's eyes widen as she realizes what she's just said because she hadn't planned on bringing up the girl from the Grille, not yet at least, but Alison was walking away again and she just wanted the blonde to stop and _stay._ She could never seem to make Alison _stay._ But then her mouth had started moving and words had tumbled out and now she's here, squirming under Alison's intense glare.

"You were with some girl," Emily babbles on nervously, because Alison's still not talking and Emily feels the need to fill the silence. And truthfully she can't stop thinking about this mystery woman who was eating Alison's tomatoes. "I've never seen her before. Is she new in town?"

Alison folds her arms across her chest calmly, her eyes narrowing on the brunette as she appears to register what, or rather whom, Emily is talking about. "She doesn't live in Rosewood," Alison says finally.

"So how'd you meet?" Emily asks, leaning back against her locker and trying to sound nonchalant.

"Why are you asking me about her?" Alison response is cold and curt and Emily wonders why the blonde is being so evasive.

Emily isn't proud of this nagging jealous feeling gnawing at her insides but she's never been able to look at Alison with someone else and not feel utterly crushed.

"I don't know. You two seemed pretty comfortable with each other," Emily murmurs.

"So?" Alison challenges in that bored, snide tone that reminds Emily of all the ways the blonde has broken her heart in the past. She had hoped Alison would immediately deny having a relationship with the beautiful stranger and put Emily out of her misery, but so far her response has done nothing to put Emily's mind at ease.

Emily pushes herself off the locker and straightens her back defensively. "So, you sure do move on quickly."

Emily finally seems to have coaxed a reaction out of Alison as the blonde's eyes flash a deeper shade of blue, as if a storm is moving in behind those bright cerulean irises. Alison inches closer to Emily like she's zeroing in on her prey, her jaw clenched and her voice tense. "Excuse me?"

"I'm just surprised is all," Emily starts, trying and failing to shrug off her obvious heartbreak. "I never took you as one for public displays of affection. But there you were—smack dab in the middle of town with some random girl, feeding each other like love-sick rabbits," she finishes in disgust.

"Feeding each other..." Alison repeats as she processes Emily's accusation, her confusion quickly giving way to anger. "Are you serious right now?" she demands incredulously.

Emily rolls her eyes at her former lover. "Come on, Alison, don't try to act all innocent. You could have at least told me there was someone else."

"Someone else? You're jealous of _Leah_? Seriously?! And people think I'm the crazy one?!" Alison snaps, throwing her hands up in disbelief.

"Oh so she has a name. Thought maybe it was a secret. Because I sure as hell never heard about her before," Emily huffs petulantly. She's more than aware of how childish she sounds but learning Alison's companion's name feels like a punch to the gut as the reality hits that Alison may really be moving on.

"It's not a secret! There's just no reason for you to know her name! And there's absolutely no reason for you to be jealous of her!" Alison bites back furiously.

Emily is pacing the small space in front of her locker now. This is not how she had planned to start off her morning, but she has always lacked control of her emotions when it comes to Alison. Simply being around the blonde leaves her nerves on edge and every moment between them feels charged, like they could combust at any second.

"Ali, come on, you can't expect me not to react to you suddenly dating some random girl! I didn't even know you liked other girls!"

Emily's head is spinning as she tries to come to terms with the idea of Alison dating so soon after their _thing_ , whatever it was, ended. She knows she's being irrational because she and Alison were never even dating, but she hadn't expected Alison to move on so quickly, especially not with another girl. Obviously Emily knew Alison wasn't _straight_ but Alison had never given her any indication that she was attracted to other girls and Emily had foolishly assumed she was special. Somehow this hurts more than seeing Alison with Holbrook or Lorenzo had, because if it wasn't the being with a girl part that Alison had been hung up on all those years ago, then it must have been Emily herself.

Alison shakes her head, seemingly at a breaking point of her own. "I'm not having this conversation with you. Not here," she says before leaning in towards Emily and dropping her voice to a harsh, patronizing whisper, "And are you really so self-centered that you think you're the only girl I've ever been attracted to?"

Emily stands stunned, her mouth agape as she flounders for words. "Alison."

"Don't," Alison cuts her off sharply.

Emily feels herself shrink back under Alison's withering glare but her defenses are still high. "Fine. Run off to be with your little girlfriend," she shoots back.

"Leah is not my girlfriend! I'm not dating her! Jason is! She's Jason's girlfriend for God's sake! We were just shopping!" Alison yells out in exasperation.

Emily exhales shakily, embarrassed but relieved. "Oh. Well, ok then. That's good," she stammers out in surprise. "I mean for Jason. That's good for Jason. She seems nice."

"Don't do that, Emily. Don't act relieved that I'm not involved with her like this somehow means we have a chance," Alison chides softly with a regretful shake of her head, the storm gone from her eyes.

"Ali, I..." Emily tries, only to be interrupted by the blonde once more.

"Listen to me, Emily," Alison starts, her voice firm. "We are not together. We never were and we never will be. We're not even friends anymore. So you don't get to act jealous when you see me with someone new, and you don't get to act relieved when you find out I'm not seeing anyone, because you don't have that right anymore. You destroyed that right."

Alison turns her back to Emily and walks away once again. Emily stares at the blonde's retreating form till her eyes fill with tears and all she can make out in the crowd is a blur of blonde hair.

* * *

Emily moves through the rest of the morning like she's in a fog, still reeling from the conversation she had with Alison. Their previous talk on Alison's porch hadn't exactly left her hopeful for reconciliation, but there was a finality to Alison's words and tone of voice this time around that makes Emily think this might really be it for them. She understands that what she did to Alison is indefensible, she really does, but up until now she hadn't been able or willing to accept that she might not be able to fix it and that Alison, although still physically present in her life for the moment, may truly be gone. _Again_. And to compound her heartache, she has to come to terms with the fact that she has no one to blame for this outcome but herself.

At lunch Hanna and Aria attempt to engage her in some mindless chatter about prom themes and dresses, but Emily's too focused on the quiet conversation going on between Spencer and Alison at the other end of the table to participate. Besides, she really has no interest in prom right now. Not when her whole world is spiraling out of control and the one girl she'd want to take to prom is currently sitting ten feet away from her pretending she doesn't exist.

Emily was a little surprised to see Alison approach their table at the start of lunch and take her usual seat beside Spencer without so much as looking in Emily's direction, but Alison had always been a master at burying her emotions and Emily suspects this level of denial is all par for the course for Alison. She can't exactly make out what Alison and Spencer are talking about but judging by their facial expressions and clipped tones, she can tell it's a tense discussion. Knowing Spencer's current feelings towards her, Emily can't help but wonder if it's her they're talking about.

Alison excuses herself from the table as soon as she finishes her lunch, never sparing Emily a glance but offering Hanna and Aria a wave and a warm smile. With Ali gone, Spencer rejoins the group's conversation, shooting Emily a pointed look as she inches her chair closer and turns to say something to Aria.

As her friends delve deeper into the prom theme debate, Emily's phone vibrates in her jeans. With a furtive glance around the table, Emily discretely fishes the phone from her pocket and brings her hands under the table so she can check it in private. As her eyes lock on the screen, her stomach flips and her breath gets caught in her throat.

Blocked ID: (1) new text message.

 _Looks like Spencer beat you to the punch. One down, two to go. Tell Hanna and Aria NOW or I deliver the knock out blow._

* * *

Emily shifts anxiously in her seat as she fiddles with the cell phone concealed in her lap. Every so often she lifts her eyes to glance at Mrs. Richards to make sure the English teacher isn't looking in her direction. The last thing she needs today is to get detention. After her disastrous conversation with Alison this morning she had foolishly thought the school day couldn't possibly get worse, but then A's text had come during lunch and now she's back to feeling like she's drowning in a sea of problems she has no idea how to fix.

Class is almost over and she's spent the entire hour obsessing over A's threat. She shudders to think what A's "knock out blow" could possibly be. She knows what she has to do and she's spent the better part of class trying to figure out how she's going to do it. But no matter how many times she rehearses the words in her head and imagines going through with it, she always envisions the end result being the same: her friends turning their backs on her in absolute horror.

She's so caught up in her own thoughts that she doesn't realize the bell has rung until her chair is bumped by an over-eager classmate. Snapping her head up to look around, she sees that most students have already filed out of the room. Emily quickly gathers her belongings and hurries after the one person who might be able to help her.

"Spencer! Spencer, wait!" Emily calls out, trying to catch up to her friend in the hallway. The two shared the previous class and Emily had felt Spencer's eyes on her all throughout the mind-numbingly boring lesson on Beowulf, but she had been too afraid to turn and face her friend's disappointment.

They make their way through the hallway and Spencer disappears into the crowd up ahead. Emily follows after her, weaving her way past her schoolmates and catching up to her friend halfway down the busy corridor. She grabs Spencer by the elbow and spins her around.

"Will you slow down? I need to talk to you," Emily pants out, slightly winded from chasing Spencer through the hall.

Spencer sighs. "I need to get to class, Emily."

"Come on, Spence. Don't do this. We're best friends," Emily pleads, knowing why Spencer is blowing her off.

"Ali's my friend too," Spencer says, giving Emily her best glare.

Emily wants to snap and shake the girl. Remind her that she hadn't always considered Alison a friend. That she had been the one leading the charge against Alison when she first returned to Rosewood. That she had mistrusted Alison to the point of accusing her of being A. That she had been right besides Emily ready to plant evidence against Alison in Mona's murder case to ensure the blonde remained locked up in prison. But Emily bites her tongue because she knows it won't help fix things and she's caused enough destruction.

"Look, I'm not sure what you think you know about me and Alison, but..."

"I know enough," Spencer interrupts.

Emily tries again, hoping to keep this conversation from getting away from her. "What happened between Alison and I wasn't..."

But Spencer cuts her off again, obviously uninterested in what Emily has to say. "If you chased me down just to make excuses for yourself then save it. I'm not Ali, I can actually see what's really going on here."

Emily rears back, visibly thrown by Spencer's words. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're no better than who Ali used to be! But at least she's grown and changed, you've just gone backwards! Not even backwards because this has never been who you are. You've turned into a completely different person, Emily. And I'm not so sure I like the new you," Spencer fires back, her eyes blazing wildly.

"You don't know the whole story," Emily argues meekly as she absorbs the implications of Spencer's tongue lashing.

"You knew!" Spencer accuses harshly, whirling around and getting in Emily's face. "You knew Alison would let you do whatever you wanted to her because she doesn't think she deserves better! You knew just how desperate she was to be loved and you exploited that! You exploited her!"

"Like she didn't used to do the same to me?!" Emily cries, tears pricking at her eyes as she finds herself becoming overwhelmed by emotion in this same hallway for a second time today. She knows she's the bad guy now but she's been hurt before too.

"I know Ali was horrible to you in the past and no one would have blamed you for not forgiving her, but to do what you did..." Spencer trails off, shaking her head. "There's no excuse for that, Emily."

"I know," Emily agrees quietly.

Spencer regards Emily curiously, her anger seeming to have tapered off, but her eyes remain focused and demanding. "Was it payback? Is that what this is all about? You trying to get back at Ali for hurting you all those years ago?"

"No! I don't know. Maybe," Emily admits. "I screwed up. Okay? I was angry and I lost control. I wasn't myself, Spencer. You know me," she pleads tearfully. "I love Alison. I didn't mean to hurt her. It was just so easy to take it all out on her."

"I have to get to class," Spencer says with a sigh and Emily knows she fucked up again. That she said the wrong thing to make Spencer turn away from her in disappointment. God, she hates disappointing Spencer. It's almost as bad as disappointing her parents.

"No. Wait, Spencer. I'm sorry. You have no idea how much I regret what I did," Emily calls out in desperation.

When Spencer turns back to face her, her expression has softened a bit but she still holds Emily's gaze in challenge. "I'm not the one you need to be apologizing to."

Emily shakes her head regretfully as she brushes the tears from her eyes. "I apologized to Alison. I don't think she'll ever forgive me.

"Maybe she shouldn't," Spencer says seriously, not a trace of spite in her voice.

Emily forces herself to move the conversation along, already having gone down that rabbit hole once today. "Look, this isn't why I wanted to talk to you. I need your help."

Spencer arches an eye in question as if to say, "go on."

"A...Charles...whoever... sent me this a couple of weeks ago," Emily whispers, showing her phone to Spencer.

Spencer ears perk up at the mention of A and she snatches the phone from Emily's hand to get a better look."Who's the bully now? Confess your sins to your friends or I will," Spencer reads off. "A knows about you and Ali?" she asks, her voice rising in disbelief.

Suddenly Emily is very aware of just how public their conversation is. She quickly glances around the hallway to make sure no one is eaves dropping before returning her focus on Spencer. "Why don't you shout it a little louder so the whole damn school hears you!"

"There's an audio file attached," Spencer notes, lowering her voice to appease Emily. "What is it? Did A leave you a message?" she asks eagerly, eyes sparkling in anticipation of uncovering another piece of the puzzle.

Spencer attempts to play the recording but Emily pulls the phone back out of her grasp.

"No. It's of me...and Alison," Emily begrudgingly admits.

"You and... oh. _Oh God._ A recorded you two? Why would A record _that_?" Spencer shrieks, clearly horrified.

Emily's cheeks flush with embarrassment as she attempts to look everywhere but at Spencer. She still can't believe she's having this conversation with Spencer in the middle of school but A has left her no other recourse. "To torture me. He must have bugged Ali's room," Emily mutters.

"Is there video?" Spencer asks, finally ushering Emily to a more secluded section of the hallway. The crowd has thinned out now as most of the students have already made their way to class, but there's still a few stragglers walking the corridors.

"Just audio as far as I know," Emily shrugs. "I don't know when he planted the mic or where it could be."

Spencer's eyes nearly pop out of her head at that. "Wait, it's still there? You didn't tell Alison?!"

"No! How could I tell her? She'd be humiliated!" Emily shoots back.

"So you just left a planted wire in her room for all this time so A could hear everything she says in there?" Spencer asks.

"What does it matter? A knows everything we say or do anyway!" Emily counters hotly. Taking a deep breath, she runs a hand through her hair and presses her back against the cool wall with a defeated sigh.

"So you want me to help you find the mic and get it out before Ali notices?" Spencer concludes.

"No, I need-," Emily starts, "wait, actually, can you do that?" Why hadn't she thought of that.

"If not that, then what do you want?" Spencer asks.

Emily pushes herself off the wall frantically. "You read the message! And I got another one today! A wants me to tell Hanna and Aria about me and Ali!" she cries, the very thought of telling her friends the truth causing a fresh wave of panic to course through her body.

Spencer remains unaffected by her friend's hysteria. "So?"

"So?!" Emily echoes, aghast by Spencer's nonchalance. "So how the hell am I supposed to do that? You and Ali already hate me, I can't lose Hanna and Aria too!"

"Nobody hates you and you haven't lost me, Em," Spencer tells her, remaining calm despite Emily's growing agitation. "I don't like what you did but I still love you. I'm sure Hanna and Aria will feel the same way."

"I can't. I can't do it. I won't," Emily decides. Spencer frowns in disapproval but Emily holds out stubbornly, convinced Spencer is failing to understand the gravity of the situation here. "No. You said it yourself, Alison wants to move on and forget about this whole thing. She won't be able to do that if everyone knows," Emily argues.

"I said that before I knew it was you who hurt her," Spencer says.

"So? Why should that change things? Alison would want this to remain private. I'm just trying to give her what she wants," Emily insists.

Spencer shakes her head in disappointment. "Don't act like you're protecting her. You're just trying to protect yourself."

"I can't tell them, Spencer."

"If you don't, A's just going to make things worse."

"How can things possibly get worse? I did something so unimaginably horrible, I can't even say it out loud. And Alison hates me! She's _afraid_ of me! And now you guys are going to hate me too. Nothing A, or Charles, or whatever his name is, can do is worse than that!" Emily cries.

"You abused his sister whom he seems to be obsessed with. I have a feeling things can definitely get a lot worse if you don't do what he asks," Spencer says drolly.

"This isn't right," Emily shakes her head. "This isn't anyone's business but me and Ali's."

Spencer shrugs, though not unsympathetically. "A's made it our business. Besides, when has keeping secrets from each other worked out in our favor?"

"So what do I do now?" Emily carefully considers Spencer's words, still unsure of her next move. Secrets have only ever hurt them in the past, but this is different. This isn't just another silly school-girl secret, this is something much darker, something private and intimate, the exposure of such only liable to cause Alison even more pain and trauma, and Emily hates herself for having to victimize the blonde all over again. But was keeping it a secret really benefiting either of them.

"You suck it up and you tell them. You know A makes good on his threats so Hanna and Aria are going to find out one way or another. Might as well be from you," Spencer says decidedly.

Emily knows Spencer's right. She can't keep avoiding having this conversation with her friends, not when A is breathing down her neck armed with an audio recording of the worst thing she's ever done.

Emily sniffles, forfeiting the fight against her tears which now flow freely down her cheeks. "What about Ali?"

"You tell her what's going on before you tell the others. She deserves to know the truth," Spencer says matter-of-factly.

"She doesn't want to see me. Can you..." Emily tails off, unable to finish the question.

But she doesn't need to finish it because Spencer answers without pause. "I'll be there."

* * *

Emily drums her fingers nervously along Spencer's countertop as she waits. Her eyes repeatedly dart to the cabinet under Spencer's sink, wanting desperately to again seek solace in the bottle of whiskey she now knows the Hastings keep hidden there. But now that Spencer knows the truth, there's no chance she'll allow Emily the comfort of alcohol.

"If you're going to keep doing that, could you at least try to do so in rhythm? You're driving me crazy," Spencer says.

"Sorry," Emily mumbles, pushing herself back from the counter and clenching her fists so that she won't be tempted again. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Probably not. But it's not like we have an abundance of options here," Spencer says.

Emily shakes her head and starts to pace. "It's late. I don't think she's coming. You shouldn't have told her I was here. She's not coming because she knows I'm here."

"This isn't an ambush, Em," Spencer tells her. "I wasn't going to lie to Ali to get her over here and have you pop out at her from behind the counter. I told her we needed to speak to her and she agreed to come over. We still have over an hour before Aria and Hanna get here. You'll have plenty of time to talk to Alison beforehand. Just try to relax."

"Relax? My entire life will be over in a couple of hours and you want me to relax?!"

Spencer pivots to face her and Emily can tell Spencer is poised to deliver yet another lengthy lecture about owning your mistakes, but a sharp knock on the back door interrupts them. Emily jumps at the sound, nearly knocking over the bowl of fruit Mrs. Hastings keeps on the counter.

"Sit," Spencer instructs, pushing Emily towards a stool. "And hold this," she adds, handing Emily a bottle of water. "So you have something to occupy your hands."

As Spencer walks off to open the door, Emily tries to calm herself down with some breathing exercises she read about in one of her mother's self-help books. Her fingers pick absently at the label on the water bottle Spencer gave her as she stares straight ahead.

Spencer ushers Alison into the house with a few words Emily can't quite make out from her spot in the kitchen and Alison responds with a tight-lipped nod and a cautious glance around the room. Her eyes meet Emily's for a moment before she looks away. It's only for a brief moment but Emily can't help but note the nervous look on the blonde's face.

Emily also notices that Alison's hair isn't down like it was in school but rather swept up into a messy bun that exposes the blonde's long neck and makes her look rather sexy. As soon as the thought enters her head, Emily's biting her lip and shaking it from her mind. She shouldn't be thinking of Alison like that, especially not at a time like this.

"Well, I'm here. Mind telling me with this is all about now?" Alison asks, addressing the question to Spencer. Suddenly, Emily realizes that this is how it's going to be between them until they go their separate ways. Their friends and Rosewood will keep them in each other's orbit, but Alison will continue to look right through her until the blonde is nothing but a memory to her.

"Why don't we all take a seat," Spencer suggests, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Emily waits for Alison's response, sure the blonde is going to refuse to sit within 10 feet of her, but Alison simply sighs and moves to take a seat across from Emily at Spencer's breakfast bar.

Spencer sits down next to Emily so that she's facing Alison.

"Okay. We're all sitting. Now can you tell me why I had to come here?" Alison asks, not bothering to hide her disdain for the situation

Emily knows she should speak up and get this over with but she can't seem to find her voice.

Spencer takes control of the conversation, easily falling into the role of mediator. "Emily needs to tell you something."

"We've already done the apology thing," Alison says dismissively, sounding more and more like her former self.

"No. Not that," Spencer says brushing Alison off. "Em?" Spencer prods gently.

Emily forces herself to lift her head and meet Alison's eyes. She may not be able to repair the damage she's done to her and Alison's relationship, but coming clean about A's text and the planted wire in Alison's room is at least a step in the right direction.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Alright here we go! Another chapter from Emily's perspective. Sorry once again for taking so long to update, but considering my track record this wasn't so bad lol. Wrote my first ever flashback in this chapter, it's in italics so look out for that. I actually really enjoyed writing the characters in their "old" voices so hopefully you guys enjoy it too. Well, thank you all again for reading and reviewing. You guys are the best motivation so please continue to let me know what you think!**

* * *

The truth comes tumbling from Emily's lips in a series of broken sentences and incoherent muttering. Her mouth moves rapidly, as if it's trying to outrun the shame creeping up her cheeks. She spits it all out without preamble: A's text, the threats to tell their friends, the recording.

Alison absorbs her words as if they're blows, her breath hitching as she spreads her palms flat on the Hastings' kitchen island to steady herself. Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly with every horrifying detail Emily divulges.

Spencer listens on silently, her face full of compassion that Emily knows is not for her.

"What do you mean A recorded us?" Alison asks once Emily stops talking. Her voice rises in panic as she seeks to clarify Emily's nervous babbling. "Recorded us doing what?"

Emily pales at the question, reluctant to add to the blonde's growing distress. She knows Alison heard everything she said but is likely having a difficult time wrapping her head around it all. She shakes her head and snaps her mouth shut. She's already said so much, she can't bring herself to say anymore.

Spencer clears her throat awkwardly and knowingly steps in. "Apparently A—or, well, Charles, I suppose—now has a recording of an _intimate_ moment between you two and he's been using it to threaten Emily."

Emily hears Alison gasp, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. She pushes her chair back and jumps to her feet. "There's a recording of... _that_? And you have it?"

Emily nods guiltily. "He sent it to me."

"Why? Why would he do that?" Alison asks, sounding betrayed. As the blonde tries in vain to shake the emotion from her voice, Emily wonders who Alison feels more betrayed by: the trusted friend who inflicted the pain or the unknown brother who exploited it.

"He wanted me to tell Spencer, Hanna and Aria about what happened between us."

Alison's eyes nearly pop from her head. "Did you?!"

Emily shakes her head. "No. Not yet. Spencer figured it out on her own, but I'm going to tell Hanna and Aria today."

"You can't do that!" Alison cries urgently, looking to Spencer for support.

"Trust me, I don't want to. But Charles…" Emily starts only to be interrupted.

"I want to hear it," Alison cuts in decidedly.

Emily opens her mouth to protest but Spencer beats her to the punch. "Ali, no."

But Alison is undeterred, her voice hardening as she ignores Spencer and narrows her eyes on Emily. "Play it. I want to hear it."

"Alison, I don't know if that's the best idea. You're only going to upset yourself," Spencer argues, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she tries to reason with the emotional blonde.

"Upset myself?" Alison scoffs. "I think I'm way past _upset_ , Spencer." She turns back to Emily, her eyes ice cold and her voice clipped. "Now, play it. I want to hear."

"Ali, don't do this," Emily pleads, finally finding her voice.

"I said play it! It's me on that tape, I deserve to hear it!" Alison screeches as tears prick at her eyes and her fists clench at her sides.

Emily flinches at the loudness of Alison's voice. With a defeated glance towards Spencer, she pulls her phone from her back pocket and taps the screen a few times before handing it over to Alison. She closes her eyes and waits, letting her tears fall freely onto the granite countertop.

She remembers what it felt like to hear that recoding for the first time, like someone had plunged a knife directly into her heart and left it there. She can still hear Alison's desperate pleas crisp and clear in her mind. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to forget them. And now Alison is going to have to live with that same feeling and those same voices permanently embedded in her brain. Except it'll be so much worse for Alison. It seems like all Emily's done lately is cause the blonde pain, unimaginable pain, and she hates herself for it.

After a few torturous moments of silence, Emily opens her eyes to see Alison's thumb hovering over the play button on the phone, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth in contemplation. There's an anguished look on the blonde's beautiful face and tears in her eyes. Catching Emily studying her, Alison shakes her head and punches the side button on Emily's phone, sending the screen to black. She shoves the phone back at Emily before storming past her and out Spencer's back door. Spencer calls after her a couple of times but ultimately lets Alison leave, telling Emily she probably needs to be by herself for a while.

"I can't do that again. Don't make me," Emily cries as she shakes her head. The thought of now having to reveal the truth to Hanna and Aria making her sick with dread. She doesn't know how she's going to get through disappointing two more people she cares about.

"Hang in there. You're almost done," Spencer tells her, not unsympathetically.

Emily cradles her head in her hands as she listens to Spencer moving around the kitchen, opening cabinets and fumbling with glasses and bottles.

"Here," Spencer says, sliding the glass of whiskey towards her. No sooner than the brown liquor comes into view Emily is snatching it up in her fist and draining the glass of its contents in one shot.

Spencer gives a quick comforting pat on the back and turns to put the bottle back under the sink. Emily itches to call out and plead for her to leave it because she's going to need more than one drink to get through this, but she knows she doesn't deserve a crutch and Spencer is unlikely to give her one.

* * *

Hanna and Aria arrive a short time later, blissfully unaware of the tense situation they're stepping into. Spencer leads the girls into the kitchen, where Emily still sits with her head in her hands, and leans back against the counter with a sigh as if already exhausted by just the prospect of the conversation.

"Hey Em," Aria greets warmly as she tosses her purse and car keys onto the kitchen island.

Hanna makes herself at home, grabbing a can of soda from Spencer's refrigerator and sliding into the stool Alison had briefly occupied a short while ago. "So what's up? Is there any news on Charles?"

"This isn't about Charles. Well, not exactly," Spencer explains carefully.

"So then what's up?" Hanna asks.

Emily and Spencer exchange looks, Spencer silently imploring Emily to get started.

Aria observes the pair suspiciously. "What's with the looks?"

"You two are acting weird," Hanna remarks casually before taking a sip of her soda, clearly unimpressed with her friends' secretary.

Emily swallows hard and starts to speak, her voice shaky but deliberate. "I need to tell you guys something. About me and Alison."

"Where is Ali by the way?" Aria asks, her cheerful tone a stark contrast to Emily's overwhelming misery. Aria spins in her seat and glances around the kitchen as if the blonde might be hiding in Spencer's kitchen pantry.

"She left," Spencer says, her eyes drifting to Emily once again.

Emily looks away, trying to ignore Spencer's pointed look, hoping to put off this dreaded conversation for just a moment longer.

"Have you and Ali finally started banging?" Hanna asks bluntly. "Cause I hate to break it to you, Em, but that's not exactly surprising with the way you two are constantly eye-fucking each other."

Emily gapes at her friend in shock. Had she always been that obvious?

"Hanna!" Spencer scolds sharply.

"Hanna, be quiet," Aria chides a little more gently. "And try to show some tact."

Hanna rolls her eyes and places her drink down on the counter. "What's the big deal? So two of our friends are bumping uglies. Good for them! What's with the dramatic group meeting? If you're looking for our blessings, consider yourselves blessed! Ali's not the bitch we all thought she was, so go to town on each other for all I care! I only wish you two had started hooking up before Ali met that abusive asshole she was dating, that way that jerk would have never had the chance to hurt her!"

"Hanna!" Spencer cuts in again, exasperated. "Can you just let Emily talk? _Please_."

Hanna rolls her eyes once more. "Sorry. Spill, Em.

"I did something bad. Really bad," Emily starts again, her heart pounding furiously against her chest.

Aria frowns in concern. "What'd you do?"

Emily shakes her head. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth, thick with the words she can't bring herself to say. She opens her mouth to speak but no sound comes out.

"Em, you can tell us anything," Aria urges softly, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on Emily's forearm. Emily hears the concern and compassion in her friend's voice and she hates that she's going to have to destroy the tiny brunette's faith in her.

"I hurt her," she finally manages to croaks out.

"Who?" Hanna asks.

"Alison." Emily squeezes her eyes shut, the images of what she's done to Alison bombarding her as she speaks her name.

Aria tilts her head in confusion. "What do you mean? How?"

"Please. I...I can't say it."

"Emily, you're really starting to freak me out now. Just spit it out. It can't be that bad," Hanna says.

Unable to find and voice the words, Emily silently removes her phone from her pocket and brings up the text A had sent. She places the phone face up on the counter and watches Hanna and Aria through her tears as they peer at the screen.

"Who's the bully now?" Hanna reads aloud. "What does that mean? Is A really trying to imply you've been bullying Ali? That's ridiculous. You couldn't bully a fly. And as if Ali would let _you_ of all people bully her—no offense , Em, but you're not exactly threatening."

"What sin are you supposed to confess? And what's in that file?" Aria adds, still studying the text message.

Emily's face crumbles in tears as she shakes her head shamefully. "I'm the one who hurt Ali. There was no guy. She wasn't dating anyone. It was me."

Hanna looks horrified, her mouth falling open in shock and her big blue eyes staring wide at Emily. Aria just looks like she wants to cry.

Emily turns to Spencer as if the other girl could help her but Spencer just looks on pensively. As supportive as Spencer has been, Emily's going to have to do this on her own.

"Hanna, say something. Please," Emily pleads when she notes the expressions of her friends's face.

But it's Aria who speaks first. "The bruises on her wrists...Ali's busted lip... that was you?" she asks, her brows furrowing in confusion, as if she can't equate such a horrible thing with the sweet Emily she knows.

Emily closes her eyes and nods her guilt.

"How long has this been going on?" Aria asks solemnly.

Hanna snaps her head up to interject, her voice hard. "Why? Why would you do that?"

"A few weeks. I..I don't know. I don't know what happened," Emily stammers out, trying to provide her friends' the answers they seek. "I was upset because Sara left and I went to Ali's house and…everything happened so fast. I wasn't myself. I was rough and aggressive and it didn't even occur to me that she might not want to. I don't think I would have even cared at the time," she says shamefully. "I was just so angry and I blamed her. And then I couldn't stop going over there. I'm like an addict when it comes to her. And she hates herself so much, she just let me do whatever I wanted because she thinks she deserves it and I took advantage of that...of her," she admits. She had lashed out at Spencer when she had accused her of such, but Emily knows Spencer was right. She had recognized a weakness, a deep seated source of pain and hurt, in Alison and shamelessly exploited it.

"But that night," she continues, pointing to the phone to indicate the night A was threatening her with, "I was feeling guilty about what I was doing to her and I got drunk so I wouldn't have to deal with my guilt. And then I got angry and something came over me… and it was _different_. _I_ was _different_. It's like I snapped and was no longer in my body. I didn't even realize what I was doing till she was screaming at me to stop and then I...God, I swear I never meant to hurt her! I love her! I always have, you guys know that!"

"That's not an excuse, Emily! Jesus!" Hanna shouts, incensed.

"I know! I know! There is no excuse. I'm a monster," Emily cries.

Aria still looks hopelessly lost and Emily's heart aches for the sensitive girl. "Emily, you... are you saying…God, I can't even say it."

"Why did Charles want you to tell us this?" Hanna asks, her anger tapering off.

"To torture me," Emily shrugs. "He planted a wire in Ali's room and recorded us. That's the file in that text message."

Hanna shakes her head and huffs. "I don't think I can be here right now."

"Hanna, please," Emily rasps out.

Hanna shoulders her bag, unmoved by Emily's pleas. "I'm sorry. I can't look at you right now."

"I'm gonna go too," Aria says quietly.

Emily knew they'd turn away from her but watching her friends walk away from her _hurts._ It feels like someone stole the air from her lungs and she can't catch her breathe.

"They'll come around," Spencer tries to comfort her. Emily hangs her head, unconvinced.

* * *

The following day Emily finds herself standing in Alison's room with the rest of the girls as Caleb prepares to use some geeky gadget he ordered off the internet to check for wire transmission frequencies and hopefully locate whatever A has been using to record them. She watches as Caleb removes the device from its chrome colored carrying case and excitedly explains how it works to everyone.

Spencer had texted them all, asking everyone to meet at Alison's house after school so they could deal with the wire situation and go about de-bugging Alison's room and any other potential rooms A might have bugged. Emily had reluctantly agreed despite knowing she wasn't exactly welcomed. She tells herself it's because she doesn't want to keep avoiding her problem and wants to face them head-on now, but truthfully she just wants to see how Alison is doing in the wake of yesterday's explosive news.

Walking up to Alison's door had been terrifying, but thankfully Aria had answered the door instead of Alison—a small relief considering the glare the petite brunette sent her way could have rivaled Alison's in her glory days. She had silently followed Aria up the stairs to Alison's room and looked on as Aria sat down beside Alison on the bed, looping her arm through Alison's and resting her head against the blonde's shoulder as the Alison's eyes danced anxiously around the room.

"What's she doing here?" Hanna asks unapologetically upon Emily's arrival.

"I texted her. With A upping the stakes, I think it's best we present a united front," Spencer explains.

Hanna mutters something under her breath that Emily is thankful she can't make out. She doesn't blame Hanna for not wanting her around, but she feels like she's suffocating in this room full of painful memories and people who hate her. She just wants to make sure Alison is alright and the wire situation is taken care of and then she'll leave everyone alone.

Emily takes in Alison's nervous agitation and her heart breaks a little bit more at the site of the girl's obvious distress. As much as it pains Emily to not be able to swoop in and comfort Alison herself, she's thankful Aria is there with her big soft eyes and her unyielding compassion to offer some relief.

But it feels wrong being in Alison's room, like she's violating the girl all over again, and her stomach churns with the memories of what happened between them not too long ago on the very bed Alison sits on. Squeezing her eyes shut in hopes of blocking out the horrifying images running through her mind, Emily presses her back against the wall, putting as much distance between herself and Alison as possible.

Spencer informs them of the plan: Caleb will use his new toy to locate any recording devices that A might have planted in Alison's room, and then he'll proceed to each of the girls' houses to repeat the process to make sure no one else's room has been bugged.

If A bugged her room, Emily thinks, then he probably has a hundred hours of her sobbing into her pillow. How riveting for him.

As Caleb gets to work, Spencer watches him curiously, occasionally asking a question about radio frequencies and other tech-y stuff Emily doesn't understand. Hanna rolls her eyes in boredom at the pair before busying herself by sampling the perfume on Alison's vanity.

"Hm, this smells really nice, Ali," Hanna comments casually as she dabs some of Alison's perfume on her wrist. "When was the last time you used this one?"

Emily instantly recognizes the bottle of perfume in Hanna's hand. She had given it to Alison as a gift before she disappeared.

" _A gift? For moi?" Alison asked teasingly. "What's the occasion?"_

 _Emily fiddled with her fingers and shrugged, suddenly growing shy. "I-I just thought you'd like it." She felt a little silly about giving Alison a random present, but when she saw the bottle of perfume in the store she had immediately thought of Alison and how happy the blonde would be to have it, and all Emily ever wanted was to make Alison happy._

 _A wide smile spread across Alison's face and she excitedly plopped down on the bed next to Emily. "Wonder what it could be," she mused. "I bet it's something really special. I know you wouldn't get me some ordinary old gift," she said with a playful wink._

" _You have to open it and see," Emily smiled back, a blush spreading across her cheeks._

 _Alison studied the package in her hands. Emily had painstakingly wrapped the cardboard box in glittery blue paper and topped it with a shiny white ribbon. The result was really quite beautiful. Alison ran her fingers over the paper reverently and toyed with the ribbon._

 _Emily noticed Alison's hesitation. "You're never going to find out what it is if you don't open it, Ali!" she teased._

 _Alison smiled softly. "It's just so beautiful. I don't want to ruin it. Don't you think some gifts are just too perfect to unwrap? What if what's inside isn't as pretty as what's on the outside?"_

" _You're so weird," Emily laughed with a shake of her head._

 _Alison bumped Emily with her shoulder and grinned. "Yeah, but you love it."_

 _Emily looked on nervously as Alison unwrapped the small box and carefully set the paper aside. She really hoped Alison liked it and didn't mock her for buying her some stupid present for no reason._

" _Oh my God, Em!" Alison squealed excitedly as she pulled the small bottle of French perfume from the box._

" _Do you like it?" Emily asked eagerly._

" _I love it!" Alison jumped up from the bed and twisted the bottle open. She put the opened bottle to her noise and inhaled. "Mmm, Em," she moaned,"it smells so good!" She locked her eyes on Emily as she seductively dabbed the fragrance on her neck._

 _Alison carefully placed the bottle down on her vanity and turned back to Emily with a glint in her eyes. Her hips swayed as she sauntered over to the bed and kneeled on the mattress beside Emily. Alison turned and braced a hand on Emily's thigh, leaning over the brunette and turning her head so Emily's face was in the crook of her neck._

" _What do you think, Em? Do I smell good?"_

 _Emily swallowed thickly, her throat running dry as her senses were overwhelmed by the bold blonde. How could someone make perfume seem so sexy._

" _Yeah. Really good," Emily stammered out. She took a deep breath and let her eyes trail from the blonde's long neck down to her chest. She wanted nothing more than to bury her head in Alison's shoulder and leave kisses all over her creamy white skin._

 _Abruptly Alison pulled back and gave Emily a knowing wink. "Thanks, Em!" she said as scooted herself further up the bed and leaned back against the headboard. "God! I bet the guys won't be able to keep their hands off me when I wear this!" she finished with a smirk._

 _Emily forced out a smile despite the sinking feeling in her stomach."Yeah. I bet."_

"Hanna, stop touching everything," Aria scolds, drawing Emily's attention back to the situation at hand.

Hanna shrugs and continues her inspection of the bottles on Alison's vanity. "Why? Alison doesn't mind. Do you, Ali?"

Alison's eyes snap in Hanna's direction at the mention of her name, her attention clearly elsewhere. "Huh?" she asks as Hanna gestures to the perfume bottles. "Uh—yeah, sure. Take whatever you want," she mutters, absently waving her off as her eyes follow Caleb.

"Score for me!" Hanna smiles as she closes her fingers around the coveted bottle of perfume. Aria shakes her head in disapproval.

Emily's face falls in disappointment as she watches Alison casually disregard the once cherished gift. She doesn't blame Alison for wanting to rid her room of any and all memories of her, but it feels like Alison is trying to erase her from her life and her heart clenches painfully at the thought.

Thankfully Alison is too distracted to notice Emily stewing in misery in the corner. In fact, the blonde has yet to spare Emily a glance since her arrival. Instead Alison continues to fret nervously over the wire situation, jumping to her feet suddenly to address Caleb.

"Did you check the lamp? He could have put something in the lamp."

"Ali, relax. We got it covered," Spencer assures her, grasping Alison by the wrist and guiding her to sit back down on bed between her and Aria.

Alison sighs and allows her friends to soothe her. "I'm sorry. I just hate this. I can't believe someone has been listening to everything I say and do in here. I feel so violated."

"We know," Aria says softly, glancing up at Emily pointedly. Emily gulps at the ferocity she see's in her tiny friend's eyes.

"Are you sure you got it?" Alison asks when Caleb announces he's finished.

"Positive," Caleb replies confidently, brandishing the thin black wire he pulled from inside Alison's curtain.

"And that was the only one? You're sure? You checked for others, right?" Alison asks as her eyes scan the room frantically.

"I give you my personal guarantee: this room is bug free," Caleb assures her with a lopsided smile. Emily knows Caleb has never been particularly fond of Alison but his voice is kind and his eyes sympathetic when he addresses the worried blonde, and Emily can't help but wonder if Hanna has shared the unique circumstances of this particular A threat with her boyfriend. She shrinks back a bit in shame at the thought. One more person who has likely lost any and all respect for her.

Spencer turns towards the boy with a serious expression. "Thanks for doing this, Caleb."

"No problem. I'm going to sweep downstairs real quick to make sure there's no other bugs in the house," Caleb says. "We'll do your house next, Spencer."

Hanna walks with him to the door of Alison's bedroom and leans in to thank him with a quick kiss before he disappears into the hallways, leaving the girls alone.

"Where'd you get that?" Alison asks Hanna, her eyes fixed on the bottle of perfume in her friend's hands.

Hanna looks at Alison like she's crazy. "You just gave it to me."

"I didn't realize which bottle you meant. I'm sorry, Hanna, you can't take that one," Alison says regretfully.

Hanna shrugs, handing Alison the bottle. "No problem. I'll just swing by whenever I want to use it."

Alison gives Hanna an apologetic smile and places the perfume back on the vanity, much to Emily's delight.

Emily can't help the small smile that comes to her lips when Alison reclaims the perfume she gave her all those years ago. If the gift still means something to Alison, then maybe _she_ still means something to Alison, too. Maybe all hope wasn't lost.

But that joy is short lived and Emily's smile is quickly replaced with a look of abject horror as the sound of Alison's breathy cries and Emily harsh threats blare loudly through the room.

 _"They thought this was bad? Wait till they see what I do to you tonight."_

Everyone freezes in shock at the loud intrusive sound. Wide eyes dart frantically around the room, searching for understanding.

" _Em."_

Emily feels her blood run cold. The unmistakeable sound of Alison's shaky broken voice piercing through her heart once again. Her head burns fiercely as she tries to shake off her shock and disbelief and allow her brain to process the situation.

 _"Poor little Alison. Always the victim."_

"Oh my God! What is that?" Hanna shrieks.

" _Why didn't you tell them how much you like it? Hm? How hard you come when I fuck you?"_

"Where is it coming from?" Aria asks, her hands flying up to cover her ears.

 _"Poor, poor, battered Alison."_

 _"How do you do it, Ali, hm?"_

 _"How do you trick everyone into falling for your act?"_

"The speaker!" Spencer shouts, pointing to the compact sound system on Alison's dresser . "It's bluetooth. A must be playing it remotely from somewhere nearby!" She rushes over and grabs the device.

 _"I wasn't trying to... Agh! Emily!"_

"Spencer, do something!" Hanna yells.

 _"You're no victim, Ali. You're a lying, manipulative bitch and you deserve everything you get."_

 _"Oh God!"_

Aria presses her hands more firmly over her ears, like she's trying to block out Alison's cries. "Shut it off! Shut it off!"

 _"Emily, hold on...p-please, slow...ow...slow down."_

"Oh my God! Shut it off!" Hanna echoes Aria's horror.

 _"Em, stop please, you're hurting me."_

Hearing Alison's desperate pleas again and seeing her friends' horrified faces—it's all too much for Emily. She presses a palm to her mouth to stop the sickness she feels creeping up on her from spilling out. This can't be happening. She had done exactly what A asked of her and then foolishly thought that would be the end of it. She had told her friends the truth, had confessed to her own depravity and felt like she was ripping her own heart out in the process, and yet still, A is punishing her.

Not just her but Alison, too. Instinctively her eyes fly to the blonde and Emily wants to cry at the sight of her. Alison stands frozen in the center of the room, almost catatonic amongst the chaos. Her eyes are wide and her mouth parted slightly. She looks so shocked, so utterly devastated, that Emily aches to scoop her up in her arms and hold her close to her chest.

"I'm trying!" Spencer calls out, her voice high and strained. She desperately punches at buttons and frantically pulls at wires in hopes of dismantling the speaker. "It's not shutting off!"

 _"Emily, stop! Stop it! Get off of me! Stop!"_

"Just make it stop!" Aria cries.

"Give me that thing," Hanna growls, snatching the speaker from Spencer's hands roughly. She charges over to Alison's open window and tosses it out, watching as the sound box shatters in the grass below.

An eery silence envelops the room. Spencer, Hanna and Aria trade pained glances, unable to look Alison or Emily in the eye.

Alison remains still, her face pale and her body trembling.

Emily surveys the damage. She drinks in Alison's shock, Aria's sadness, Hanna's anger, and Spencer's disappointment, and then, knowing there's nothing she can say to help them, she leaves.

She hasn't even made it out of Alison's house when the text comes.

 _Blocked ID: (1) new text message_

 _You didn't think I'd let you off the hook that easily, did you?_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Author's Note:** Okay, here we go. First, I sincerely apologize for the ridiculously long delay in updating. I've had a lot going on and haven't been writing as much as I'd like to. Second, I tried to edit this as quickly as possible to avoid further delay so I may have missed a thing or two. I had a couple more pages planned for this chapter but I decided to save those for the next installment and just get this out as is even if I'm not 100% satisfied with it, but I do hope to get the next part of the story out sooner or later. Lastly, thank you all so much for continuing to read this story and for leaving me reviews encouraging me to continue, your kind words really are the best motivation. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

The room settles into an eery silence. Emily is gone but Spencer, Hanna and Aria still remain, staring at her with wide sympathetic eyes. Alison blinks back at them like she's playing a game of chicken. Be the first to move and you lose. But she has nothing more to lose. She turns on her heels and runs out of the room.

"Where is she going? This is her house!" she hears Hanna call out as she reaches the top of the stairs. She takes them two at a time, her wobbly legs struggling to match her flight instinct. She passes Caleb in the living room. He stops and looks at her like he's preparing to say something but she throws the front door open and runs out before he gets the chance.

She runs through the grass, her shoes crunching the shattered plastic of the Bose Soundlink her father had bought her for Christmas. It feels fitting that the present lies in broken pieces on the ground. She never liked the thing anyway. Her father had given her the expensive bluetooth speaker along with several other lavish gifts for her first Christmas home, but he hadn't bothered to actually be home for the holiday. The gifts had been left neatly wrapped under the tree for her to open alone when she woke up.

Her feet don't stop till she ends up here. At their spot. It shouldn't be a place of comfort for her anymore but yet she's still drawn to it—the way she'll always be drawn to _her_ despite the pain she caused her. Alison takes a seat on the graffiti covered rock, draws her legs to her chest and lets the sobs break free from her throat for the first time all day.

It's not like she had forgotten about that night with Emily but she had refused to allow herself to dwell on it. To even think about it. Whenever Emily's harsh demanding voice entered her head, she'd push it out. Whenever she remembered the feel of Emily's hands grabbing at her, driving into her, she'd rush to the shower and scrub her skin till she felt nothing. Hearing Emily cruelly taunting her as she pathetically begged the brunette to stop was like a punch to the gut. Instantly she had been transported back to being on her back with Emily hovering above her and the fear and humiliation had been just as real as it was that night.

She stays at the kissing rock till her tears run dry and her body no longer shakes with the force of her sobs, but shivers from the harshness of the cold. With her eyes swollen and her throat hoarse, she returns home. It's dark and her friends are long gone but she's not granted the small mercy of being able to slip inside unnoticed.

"Where were you?" Jason asks as she closes the door quietly behind her.

"Out," Alison croaks out, wincing at the roughness of voice.

Jason frowns at the non-answer. "I ran into Spencer when I got home. She was sitting out front waiting on you but I sent her home."

Alison doesn't respond to the information.

"She seemed worried about you," Jason continues, pausing for a moment to look her over. "Should I be worried about you, Ali?"

"You can be whatever you want to be," Alison says.

"Fine. Then I am worried about you, Ali," Jason decides. "What's going on with you lately?"

Alison shakes her head. "Nothing."

"Is it Emily? I know you two had a falling out recently and you've been…"

"I said it was nothing. Just drop it," Alison snaps sharply. She can't stand anymore questions about her and Emily.

Jason sighs and Alison can't help but feel guilty for shutting him out and disappointing him yet again.

"I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is, Ali," he tells her seriously.

Alison swallows down the ache in her throat. "You couldn't help me even if you did know."

* * *

She decides to skip school. Again. It's becoming a bad habit—shutting herself off till she has to the strength to face _her_ again. She knows she can't afford to miss anymore class. She can practically hear Spencer's voice in her head as she lies in bed, admonishing her for her poor judgment, but she thinks she's entitled to a bad decision or two after the weekend she's had. She'll have to face the world eventually if she ever wants to actually graduate from that hell hole and get out of this godforsaken town, but not today. Not with the sounds of _that_ night playing in her mind and the horrified faces of her friends in her head.

Alison groans as she shuffles groggily down the stairs. Why does the knocking always have to start when she's trying to nap.

"I swear to God, Spencer, if you don't stop knocking I'm going to kill you," she calls out as she nears the front door.

But it's not Spencer who's standing on the other side of the door.

"You weren't in school today," Hanna says in way of greeting when Alison opens the door.

Alison rolls her eyes, unimpressed with her guest's unannounced visit. "Who died and made you Rosewood High's newest truancy officer?"

"Relax. I'm not here to bust your chops, I just came by to check on you." Hanna says. "Spencer wanted to come but I thought you could probably use someone a little less… intense."

"I don't need anyone to check up on me. I'm fine," Alison grounds out, annoyed at being treated like some helpless victim.

Hanna pushes past her into the foyer, her eyes raking over Alison in the process. "You're definitely not fine."

Alison sighs and shuts the door, turning to follow her friend into the living room. "Hanna, I'm really not in the mood for company right now."

"Well, too bad cause I'm already here," Hanna shrugs, making herself comfortable on the sofa. "When was the last time you ran a brush through your hair? You look awful."

"Gees, thanks, Han. So glad you went out of your way to come by and insult me," Alison snarks in response.

"You're welcome," Hanna smiles without a trace of irony. She picks up an old interior design magazine from the coffee table and sits back, casually thumbing through images of country kitchens and minimalist bedrooms as Alison glares at her.

After a few moments, Alison rolls her eyes at the other blonde before giving in and dropping onto the other side of the sofa with a heavy sigh. Alison knows Hanna doesn't do the comfortable silence thing, or in this case, the uncomfortable silence thing, so she's not all that surprised that it takes less than a minute for the other girl to open her mouth and share what's on her mind.

"Look, Ali," Hanna starts, giving in and tossing the magazine back on the table. "I had no idea that Emily could do something like that."

"Neither did I," Alison admits.

Hanna wrings her hands nervously, her gaze wavering. "If I had known… if any of us had known…we would have…"

"It's okay, Hanna. I know," Alison assures her quietly. She knows what Hanna means, even if the other blonde can't manage to actually say it. Alison slumps back against the couch cushion, the weight of the moment overwhelming her, making her tired.

There's a heavy pause before Hanna leans forward intently and exhales, blowing the air out of her cheeks in one loud huff. "How did this all happen?"

When it becomes clear that Hanna's question isn't rhetorical and that she actually expects an answer, Alison shifts and runs a hand through her hair "I really don't want to rehash it. Besides, I thought Emily _confessed,_ " she says, the last word tasting bitter in her mouth. She can only imagine Emily tearfully confessing to their friends as if she truly regretted her actions, when Alison knows the only reason the brunette confessed to anything was because A made her.

"She did. I mean, she told us she was angry and got carried away but I just never imagined…" Hanna trails off, her brows knitting together as she tries to make sense of the situation. "That recording of the two of you was _brutal._ "

Alison clenches her jaw at the mention of the recording she can still hear playing in her head. "Can we not do this right now?"

"Sorry," Hanna mutters, seeming to realize she may have over-stepped. "God. This is all so messed up."

Alison nods in quiet agreement.

"I feel like I don't even know her," Hanna adds with a regretful shake of her head. "It's like someone stole our Emily one day and replaced her with this new horrible Emily and I don't like the replacement very much."

Alison frowns, still feeling somewhat protective of the brunette who had hurt her so badly. "She's still Emily. She's still your friend." It's a weak defense but she's torn between her conflicting feelings for Emily and her guilt over Hanna's despair. She knows the girls' relationship with Emily has permanently been damaged and she feels responsible for that.

"Not after this. I can't be friends with a rapist!" Hanna cries.

Alison's eyes shoot up in shock. "She's not! Don't say that! How could you call her that?!"

"We all heard that recording, Ali. In fact, I can't get it out of my head. It just keeps playing over and over again like it's Rihanna latest single! Except it's not! It's the sounds of one of my friends raping another one of my friends!" Hanna cries, her voice rising to a shriek as she stands and strides away from the sofa.

Alison is standing too now, unable to curb her visceral emotional response to Hanna's words. "Shut up! Stop saying that! That's not what happened!"

Hanna turns back towards the other blonde and crosses her arms across her chest. "I'm sorry, Ali, but I know what I heard," she says decisively.

"You only heard a few seconds… it's a lot more complicated than that," Alison argues, her voice faltering and the fight fading from her eyes. She just can't reconcile that word, _that act,_ with the Emily she's known and loved for so long. Or with herself for that matter.

"Look, I get it. You and Emily were whatever you two were, and now you're in denial. Spencer said you've been having difficulty accepting what happened."

She's going to kill Spencer. She hates that she's having this conversation in the middle of her living room and she hates the way Hanna is looking at her now, with such pity in her eyes.

"Spencer should learn to keep her mouth shut. She doesn't know what she's talking about. And neither do you," Alison grounds out hotly.

Alison watches Hanna exhale and take a couple of steps towards her. She wraps her arms around her middle, unsure if she's protecting herself from Hanna's outrage or her compassion.

"It's not that complicated, Alison. Emily's not who we thought she was. If she could do what she did to you then she's not a good person. She fooled us for long enough, I'm so done with that girl," Hanna says venomously.

"Hanna, don't hate Emily on my behalf," Alison pleads softly.

"Ali…" Hanna sighs, her disappointment reminding Alison of a previous conversation she had with Spencer. She never seems to say the right thing in these situations.

"No. Look, I know what Emily did was _wrong,"_ Alison starts.

Hanna rolls her eyes at Alison's simplification of the matter but Alison presses on.

"But she's still Emily. She's still the Emily who's been your best friend for years. The Emily who brings you soup and the latest copy of Vogue whenever you're sick. The Emily who makes you a handmade birthday card every year. The Emily who would risk her life for you," Alison points out.

For a moment Hanna looks torn between the memories of the sweet friend she's known for so long and the harsh demanding voice on that recording that had been the cause of Alison's heart-wrenching cries, but then she's shaking her head and digging her palms into her jean-clad thighs. "How can you defend her right now?" she demands incredulously.

"I'm not. You can hate what she did but don't hate her. Not because of me. I don't want to be the cause of any more hate," Alison says.

She used to relish in being able to get her friends, sometimes even the whole school, to turn on someone who had slighted her, but she tired of being that person, of having that power. She doesn't want to be responsible for any more hate in the world. She had put enough negativity into the world already.

* * *

She regrets going to school the second she steps foot in the building. She feels like everyone's staring at her. Just like they had when she had first come back to Rosewood. At least then she had her friends at her side, she had Emily. Or at least she thought she did.

She knows it's irrational, no one heard that recording except for her friends, but still she wonders if every whisper is about her, if every student staring at their phone and laughing is laughing at her. What if that's A's next move? To leak the recording to everyone in school so the entire town could bask in her humiliation. She feels sick at the thought.

Aria sidles up to her after first period and hardly leaves her side all day. It's not that Alison doesn't appreciate the company, it's just that she's not used to the other girl's vested interest in her life. Despite their shared interests in literature and older guys, she and Aria haven't always been the closest in the group. Alison knows that's her fault—she had exploited Aria's family's pain for her own gain and Aria understandably resented her for it. But now it seems Aria has appointed herself Alison's personal bodyguard and Alison can't help but smile to herself at the irony of sweet little Aria protectively starring down anyone who gets in their way.

"Hey so I was thinking of going to shoot some photos after school. Maybe swing by the park and take some pictures of those old oak trees," Aria says as she sets her lunch trey down next to Alison's and takes a seat on the uncomfortable cafeteria chair. "You want to come along?"

Alison picks at the turkey sandwich in front of her with a frown. "I don't know anything about photography. What use would I be?"

"I could teach you," Aria says cheerily. "Besides, photography can be pretty therapeutic. It helped me a lot when—"

"You think I need therapy?" Alison cuts in abruptly.

Aria's eyes widen, her mouth moving uselessly as she fishes for the right words to placate the offended blonde. "No! Well, yes…no. I mean, therapy might help…if that's something that you're interested in."

"Aria, relax. It's fine." Alison almost wants to laugh at the frazzled look on her friend's face but she can't help but be a little saddened by it too. She knows Aria had once been scared of her, afraid of what Alison might do if the tiny brunette didn't fall in line and bend to Alison's will, but she had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that Aria could forget that version of her and accept that she's changed now. But as she's learning with Emily, people don't just forget that kind of pain.

"Thanks for the offer but I think I'm going to pass. On the photography. And on the therapy," Alison answers pointedly.

Aria pouts in disappointment. "Okay, well if you change your mind… there's plenty of trees out there needing their picture taken."

"Trees?" Alison questions with a laugh.

Aria shrugs. "I'm trying to move away from the creepy doll thing."

"Thank God. You were staring to weird us all out."

* * *

She catches up to Spencer after the last bell of the day. She finds the brunette at her locker, shoving various books into her bag.

"Did you send Hanna and Aria to talk to me?" Alison cuts right to the chase.

Spencer takes a moment to peek her head out from behind her locker door before returning to her task. "What are you talking about?"

"Hanna and Aria… they both tried to talk to me," Alison explains, exasperated with this little playing dumb act Spencer is attempting.

Spencer eyes the blonde like she's crazy. "And your friends speaking to you is strange, because…?" she trails off expectantly.

"About Emily," Alison snaps. "They tried to talk to me about Emily. Like I need help."

Spencer shoulders her messenger bag."And what did they say exactly?" she asks curiously.

Alison rolls her eyes, annoyed with Spencer's nonchalant attitude. "Hanna accused Emily of being a rapist and Aria suggested I needed therapy," Alison whispers her response.

Spencer purses her lips and hums in response as she gently closes her locker.

"And I can see from your expression that you don't disagree with either of them," Alison notes drolly.

"Do you?" Spencer challenges as the pair start to walk towards the school's exit.

"Do I what?"

"Disagree."

"That I need therapy? I think that's pretty much a given at this point," Alison says drily.

"And what about what Hanna said," Spencer prods.

Alison rolls her eyes. "Don't start, Spencer. I know you put them up to it."

"I didn't send Hanna and Aria to talk to you. They came to you on their own because they're your friends and they care about you, Ali."

"Sure," Alison mumbles doubtfully. She feels a little guilty for doubting her friends now when they've been nothing but compassionate and supportive since that day in Spencer's great room when they had spotted the marks Emily's hands had left on her body, but with their history it was hard for Alison to accept their concern for her. Why should they care about her after all she's put them through? And why shouldn't she be a little bit wary when she had suffered the consequences of their mistrust before.

"Is it really so hard for you to believe that your friends might actually be worried about you after learning you've experienced something traumatic?" Spencer asks.

Alison has to bite her tongue to keep the biting response that enters her head from spilling out of her mouth. Instead she settles for a dismissive quip. "You guys can be so dramatic."

"Alison, maybe you should consider talking to someone," Spencer suggests.

"No. I'm tired of talking about this," Alison declares, her voice hard.

" _Have_ you talked about it?" Spencer challenges.

"Isn't that what we've been doing? Talking about Emily," Alison cries. "I feel like that's all I do now. With you, with Hanna, Aria… hell, even Jason has been asking me about her. God, I'm so tired of talking about Emily. I just want to stop thinking about her." She massages her fingers into her scalp, as if that might erase the brunette from her mind.

"But you never say how you feel about what she did to you. Every time I try to get you to talk about it, you shut down or derail the conversation. It's okay to admit she hurt you," Spencer tells her gently.

"Hurt me?" Alison repeats the words contemptuously. "She destroyed me!" she cries, her voice thick with emotion and her eyes wet with unshed tears. Alison recalls a time when Emily had shouted those same words at her. She thinks it's only appropriate that they're the cause of each other's undoing. "And I'm supposed to talk about how that makes me feel, Spencer? Tell me how it's supposed to make me feel!" she spits angrily.

Spencer frowns at her friend's distress. "I don't know, Ali. Maybe you need to figure that out."

* * *

The color's not quite what she had in mind. It's a little more gray than blue but she supposes that's what she gets for making such a hasty decision. Maybe if she had the patience to actually listen to the salesman who tried to help her she would have chosen something different, but it'll get the job done. Besides, she thinks the color suits the room, suits her. She takes a step back to admire her handiwork.

"Ali, can we talk?" Jason's voice comes from the doorway.

"What's up?" Alison replies, throwing her brother a quick glance over her shoulder before returning to her task.

Jason steps inside her bedroom and looks at the mess of drop cloths and open paint cans on the floor. "What's with the paint?"

"I'm redecorating. I needed a change," Alison says with a shrug. _And a distraction_ , she adds to herself. After her conversation with Spencer she had felt a bit unnerved and on edge. She needed something to get her mind off of Emily and her friends and A. She didn't appreciate her friend's accusation that she wasn't dealing with her feelings, even if her running to Home Depot to mount a hasty remodeling of her bedroom perfectly proved the perceptive brunette's point. But she was tired of looking at the same pale pink walls she had stared at while on her back beneath Emily all those times. She was tired of feeling trapped in this room where she had lost the girl she loved along with her self-respect.

Jason nods and takes the roller from his sister's hand. Alison moves to take the spare roller from the plastic bag of supplies on the floor and continues painting.

They paint quietly for a few minutes before Jason clears his throat to speak. "I'm moving in with Leah. Her lease is up at the end of the month and we decided to get a place together in Philadelphia."

Alison freezes mid paint stroke. "Already? You've only been dating for a couple of months!"

"I know it seems like it's soon but it's serious. And I want to spend as much time with her as possible," he tells her.

"Do you love her?" Alison asks suddenly, curious if her brother is capable of expressing the emotion that always seemed a touch out of reach for her. Her eyes remain glued to the wall, intently watching as pink becomes gray beneath her paint roller.

Jason nods. "Yeah, I do."

Alison smiles. At least one of them is normal. "When are you moving out?"

"Saturday," Jason answers hesitantly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"This Saturday?! That's in three days!" Alison exclaims in disbelief. She'd never begrudge her brother his happiness and she liked Leah a lot, but this was all happening so quickly. She feels like she just got Jason back in her life and now she's going to lose him again.

"I know. I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner but you've seemed kind of down lately and I didn't want to bring it up and make you feel worse, so I've been putting off," he explains guiltily.

"It's fine," Alison says, trying to keep her voice neutral. "So shouldn't you be packing right now?"

Jason winces as if he knows his next statement will not be well-received. "I've actually been gradually packing up my things and sneaking them out of the house when you weren't around for the past week."

"Oh," Alison mouths quietly. "I'm sorry you thought you had to keep this from me."

"Ali."

"I'm happy for you, Jason. Really," Alison says sincerely, turning to give him a genuine smile.

Jason exhales in relief. "Thanks. And don't worry, I'll come visit all the time. You'll probably see more of me than you ever did in the past. You're gonna be sick of me after a while."

Alison smiles as if she believes him but her eyes betray her doubt.

"You're a terrible painter," Alison remarks after a moment, eager to change the subject.

Jason rolls his eyes and chuckles. "Oh, well excuse me, Picasso. I was just trying to help. Besides you're hardly doing much better yourself."

"Please. I covered twice as much space as you did since you started," Alison brags.

"It's not a race, Ali," he tells her with an amused shake of his head.

"No. But if it was, I'd be winning," Alison states matter-of-factly, her lips curling into a slight smile.

"Your section is all streaky! Look at mine, it's perfect! This is how you paint," Jason says proudly.

"Yeah if you want to be here all day," Alison grumbles.

"Oh, you got somewhere better to be?" Jason asks.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Alison declares, placing her roller down in the paint trey on the floor. "My brother is taking me out to dinner to make up for the fact that he's leaving me alone in this house with our crazy father."

Jason laughs. "Right. Go wash up, you got paint on your face."

Alison turns to look in her vanity mirror before looking back at Jason with a quizzical look on her face. "No I don't."

Jason quickly thrust his arm out and taps the roller against her nose. "Now you do," he says with a huge grin.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Sorry again for the delay in updating but I'm happy to finally get this chapter out to you. A lot of you have been asking for a chapter from Emily's POV so here it is. Hope you like it. And once again, thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, following, etc. Let me know what you think!**_

 ** _AN2: sorry for all the confusion about the update. I tried updating last night and the site seemed to eat the chapter and I kept getting errors saying it couldn't be updated but then apparently it did update but no one could see it so I deleted it...anyway, I'm gonna try this again. Hope it works._**

* * *

Nothing good ever seems to come from opening her door to unexpected visitors and yet, Emily finds herself walking listlessly to answer the knocking. When she pulls open the front door, she's met with a surly looking Hanna glaring at her in the fading sunlight. Caleb stands somewhat awkwardly behind the blonde, offering Emily a smile and a wave in greeting. Emily cautiously sizes up the pair, shrinking back a little at Hanna's icy demeanor. Her stomach twists with nervous energy as she wonders what the couple could possibly want with her.

She gets her answer soon enough.

"Caleb's here to de-bug," Hanna explains curtly, brushing past Emily to enter the Fields' home. The blonde sweeps her eyes around Emily's living room like she's searching for something before huffing quietly to herself and rolling her eyes away from Emily.

Caleb brandishes his fancy chrome brief case for Emily to see and follows his girlfriend inside with a sheepish lopsided grin.

"Oh, right," Emily says, nodding slowly as Hanna's words click in her mind. She knew Caleb was planning on checking the other girls' houses for wires or recording devices _A_ may have planted like he did at Alison's, but since she hadn't heard from anyone in a couple of days—not that she expected her friends to reach out to her after what transpired in Alison's room—she assumed she had been removed from the official de-bugging list as punishment for her heinous behavior.

"I'll start in the bedroom if that's cool with you?" Caleb asks as he pops open the briefcase and removes the frequency detector.

Emily shakes herself out of her momentary daze to acknowledge the boy. "Yeah, of course, go on up."

As Emily watches Caleb climb the stairs she's suddenly very thankful her mother isn't home so she doesn't have to explain why Caleb looks like he's ghost-busting her bedroom. She's also pretty glad her mother isn't around to hear whatever venom Hanna is about to spit at her.

With Caleb out of sight, Emily swears she can feel the temperature in the room rise as she's left alone with Hanna and the blonde's simmering hate for her. She can barely bring herself to make eye contact with her one-time best friend—her eyes bouncing awkwardly around the room as she tries to focus on anything but Hanna's grim expression.

The truth is, Emily has been preparing for this confrontation all weekend—she's had lengthy conversations with each and every one of her friends in her mind where she eloquently explains herself and emotionally expresses her regret. But those conversations were easier when they were one-sided—when she didn't have to face her friend's disgust and disappointment head-on. And despite having spent two days rehearsing what her next words to her friends would be, her mind is now completely blank and she feels woefully underprepared for this confrontation. What is she supposed to say to a girl who has previously voiced a very strong desire to take a golf club to the knees of the person responsible for hurting Alison?

Taking a deep breath and bracing herself for the worst, Emily glances up at Hanna and waits for the blonde to rip into her. But Hanna looks resistant, arms folded across her chest and hip popped to one side as she studies a photo of Emily with her parents that sits on the mantle.

As the seconds tick by, Emily grows more and more unnerved with the tense and awkward situation. No longer able to withstand Hanna's unique blend of disgust and indifference, she decides to bite the bullet and break the ice herself.

"I didn't think you'd want to see me," Emily says softly—so softly in fact, she wonders if Hanna has even heard her until the blonde is slowly turning to face her.

Hanna presses her lips together and shakes her head before speaking. "I didn't think I'd want to either."

"So what changed your mind?" Emily asks as she takes a seat on the sofa.

"Ali," Hanna confesses, crossing the room to sit besides Emily with a heavy sigh.

Emily startles at the mention of Alison's name. "What?"

"I went to see Ali yesterday," Hanna starts and Emily can sense a reluctance in the other girl's tone— as if Hanna doesn't want to even speak Alison's name in Emily's presence.

"And?" Emily implores eagerly. Despite her fear of hearing what Alison might have to say about her, she's hungry for information about the blonde. She needs to know what Alison is thinking, how she's feeling, what she's been doing since that dreadful day in her room—and if anything Alison has said might suggest that she'll eventually be open to speaking to Emily again.

Hanna takes a deep breath and speaks without meeting Emily's eyes. "We talked for a while and she told me not to hate you on her behalf."

"Oh," Emily mouths quietly. That's not at all what she was expecting but somehow Alison always manages to surprise her.

"If she doesn't hate you, then maybe I shouldn't either," Hanna continues with a half-hearted shrug, although she doesn't sound too sure.

"What does that mean?" Emily asks, her forehead creasing and her mouth drawing closed as she tries to decipher the motive behind Alison's words to Hanna.

"It means I'm still trying to wrap my head around all this," Hanna answer a little impatiently. "Hearing that recording was _disturbing_ ," the blonde pauses to shake the frown from her face. "And I don't know if I'll ever be able to get Alison's cries out of my head. Or look at you the same way again and not picture you doing that to her," Hanna adds with a shudder and Emily feels queasy at the description. "Knowing what you did— _hearing_ it—it's a lot to process." Hanna pauses again to take a breath and look at Emily before continuing, "But you're still one of my best friends and I'd like to think we're not the worst thing we've ever done."

Emily offers a watery smile in Hanna's direction as she starts to feel a little hopeful—like maybe she hasn't lost her friends for good.

"That doesn't mean I'm don't hate what you did though," Hanna adds firmly.

Emily nods, feeling the tears slip down her cheeks. Spencer had expressed a similar sentiment to her when she had first found out and Emily doesn't fault either girl for feeling that way.

"I know. I hate it too," she agrees.

She hears a sniffle and the release of a shaky breath and glances up just in time to see Hanna swiping at her own tears. Emily quickly looks away—feeling useless at her inability to offer her friend the comfort she needs or face the damage she's caused.

"So have you heard from Charles again?" Hanna asks after a beat, seemingly trying to change the subject and ease the tension in the room. Emily doesn't fail to notice that A is now considered a light topic of conversation in comparison to herself.

"No," Emily grounds out, her jaw tightening at the mention of their tormentor.

"That's good."

"Is it?" Emily asks, her voice rising as she gets herself worked up thinking about the shadowy figure who continues to make their lives hell. "He's probably just laying low while he plots out the next phase of his plan to ruin my life. I still can't believe I did exactly what he asked and he punished me anyway!"

Hanna arches an eyebrow at the brunette's little outburst. "When has A ever played fair, Em?"

"This isn't a game, Hanna! This is my life!" Emily rants. She knows she's the one who hurt Alison, but _A_ exploited their privacy and humiliated the blonde in front of all their friends. _A_ did this to her. _To Alison._

"This is all our lives now," Hanna notes plainly.

"And we're just supposed to accept that? A can record us having sex and blast it through a bluetooth speaker for everyone to hear and we're just supposed to suck it up and deal with it?" Emily demands, temper flaring.

"That wasn't sex," Hanna reminds her sternly.

Hanna's words feel like a punch to the stomach and Emily sinks back against the couch cushions in shame. "I know," she agrees softly.

"You got to stop feeling sorry for yourself, Emily. You're not the victim here," Hanna tells her in that blunt no-bullshit tone of hers. "I mean technically we're all _A_ 's victims, but when it comes to you and Ali, you're not the victim."

"I know. I just…God. I don't know how to live with this," Emily mutters, grinding the palms of her hands into her thighs and flexing her fingers against the denim.

Hanna shifts a little closer and places a hand on her knee. Emily's heart soars a tiny bit at the small sign of comfort.

"Look, Em, the situation is horrible. You messed up—you more than messed up," Hanna says. "But you can't go back and change the past. It's done. All you can do now is focus on the future. Figure out why you did what you did and make sure you never do it again."

Emily shakes her head vigorously. "Never. I would _never_ hurt Alison or anyone else like that ever again," she declares soundly. "I just wish I could get Alison to see how sorry I am—make it up to her somehow."

"If Alison needs you to stay away so she can heal then that's what you need to do. You owe her that much at least," Hanna says, turning and looking Emily in the eye to emphasize her point.

Emily nods as if she agrees but truthfully, she doesn't know if she's capable of staying away from Alison.

"How is she? Did she seem okay when you two spoke?" Emily asks, careful not to sound too eager.

"She's okay," Hanna answers. "Upset and embarrassed but she'll be okay."

Emily feels a small amount of relief at hearing Alison is doing somewhat okay but that relief is short-lived. "God. If _A_ really is Charles and he's her brother, then he's sicker than I thought," Emily muses out loud as she thinks of Alison's secret sibling recording and listening to their most intimate moments.

"Okay, your room is clean," Caleb announces as he waltzes into the living room with his trusty frequency detector in hand, seemingly oblivious to the tense conversation he's breaking up.

"Great. Thank you," Emily says sincerely, thankful the interruption.

Caleb flashes her a small smile. "I'll just do a quick sweep down here and then you'll be good to go."

Emily nods and watches the boy disappear into the kitchen before turning back to Hanna. "Does he know? About me and Alison?" she asks cautiously, curious as to how many people are privy to the details of her most despicable act.

Hanna bites her lip and shakes her head. "He knows something happened up in Ali's room that day but he doesn't know the details. I didn't think it was my place to tell him."

Emily expels a breath in relief. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I'm not keeping it a secret for you. I did it for Alison."

Emily nods in understanding and lets the room fall quiet for a few moments before turning to address Hanna again. "Hey, so maybe when Caleb's done here we can all go to the Grille to grab something to eat?" she asks hopefully. "My mom won't be home till late and I don't really feel like cooking."

A conflicted look crosses Hanna's face. "Em…I don't know," she starts slowly, apologetically. "I don't think I'm ready for everything to go back to normal just yet. You still did what you did and it's going to take time before we get there."

Emily's heart drops at the rejection but she still manages to force a tight-lipped smile. "Right. Of course. Maybe some other time."

* * *

After waking up entirely too early, Emily decides to stop for coffee before school. She's going to need about a gallon of the stuff to get through the day if her tired eyes and throbbing headache is any indicator. Facing Hanna had been tough enough, she can't imagine how difficult it's going to be to see the rest of the girls at school today. Alison especially.

She's sitting at a table in the Brew sipping her second cup of coffee when she notices a flash of neon and leopard print. She looks up to see Aria handing the cashier some money in front of her. Feeling like she's been caught doing something wrong, Emily quickly averts her eyes and lowers her head. Her eyes dart nervously around the cafe as she contemplates the fastest route to the exit. Her need for caffeine forgotten as she's confronted with her fear of facing her friend in a public place—a public place she was once employed at.

She hears Aria cheerfully thank the barista and instinctively looks up just as Aria's turning in her direction, latte in one hand and car keys dangling from the other.

"Emily," Aria gasps as she stops short, mouth agape and eyes wide.

"Aria—hi," Emily sputters out, equally thrown by the encounter despite having spotted the other girl moments ago.

Aria ducks her eyes awkwardly and readjusts her purse on her shoulder. "Hi."

"Getting your caffeine fix before another never-ending day at Rosewood High?" Emily gestures to the cup in Aria's hand with a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood. Talking to a friend shouldn't be this hard but Emily can't help feeling anxious and afraid in the presence of the small brunette.

Aria grimaces in response, as if the thought of engaging in small talk with Emily is physically painful for her. "Yeah."

"Why don't you sit? We still have some time before first period," Emily suggests, motioning to the chair across from her. She isn't exactly eager to face her friends but she knows she'll have to get it over with sooner or later. Seeing Hanna hadn't been too bad, hopefully she can get on the right track with Aria and Spencer too.

Aria looks at the offered seat and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Emily. I can't do this right now. I have to go."

Emily watches the other girl flee the coffee house with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Aria can't get away from her quick enough, she can barely look at her in fact. Her talk with Hanna had left her somewhat hopeful that she could eventually piece her friendships back together, but what if she can't with Aria—what if things remain broken between them?

Emily finds it somewhat surreal to realize that one of her closest friends is now so disgusted by her that she can't stand to be in her presence—but Aria is right to be disgusted by her, she's disgusted by herself.

* * *

She spots Alison in the hallway just after second period. The blonde is standing outside Mr. Richardson's classroom discussing something with the History teacher. Mr. Richardson's face is serious as speaks but Alison appears uninterested in whatever the older man is saying. Emily watches the pair for a bit before Mr. Richardson stops talking and disappears into the classroom. Alison rolls her eyes dramatically once he's out of sight, as if she had been suppressing the urge the whole time.

She wants to ask Alison what that was about—if everything's okay, if she's having trouble keeping up with her classes, if she needs help catching up on her assignments—but she knows she can't. Hanna was right, she has to give Alison space to heal.

Emily swallows her concern and just as she's about to turn around, Alison looks up and locks eyes with her. Emily's breath hitches as she's suddenly met with Alison's bright blue eyes. Unlike her, Alison doesn't look surprised to see her, just wounded and weary, but the blonde's eyes quickly harden in her direction. Ashamed, Emily looks away and turns to head to her next class. She doesn't know how she's going to get through the remaining few weeks of school at this rate.

Emily decides to skip lunch and instead slinks off to the gym to get a workout in. Hanna may not hate her but Aria clearly wants nothing to do with her, and she's not so sure where Spencer stands after hearing the recording, but she rather not find out in a crowded cafeteria in front of half the student body. Not to mention, Alison will probably be sitting with the other girls and Emily doesn't think she has the emotional strength to withstand another run-in the blonde today. Alison had looked so tired and defeated, and Emily's too much of a coward to face the consequences of her actions—to see the pain she caused written so clearly on Alison's face. Besides, it's not like she has much of an appetite these days anyway.

She snags a power bar and a bottle of water from the vending machine in the girls' locker room and forces down her snack before signing into the weight room, hopping to quiet her mind by exhausting her body.

As her wrapped fists hit the heavy bag in the center of the room she thinks about what Hanna said—that she needs to figure out how to make sure she never hurts Alison that way again. She had been so confident when she told Hanna she would never do something like that again, but how could she be so sure? What makes her think she'll be able to control herself next time when she hadn't been able to in the first place? It's not like she had planned to hurt Alison, or ever thought about what she was doing—she just did it. Everything had sort of just happened and that's what terrifies her—that she couldn't stop herself, that she had been so out of control that she had done things she never would have imagined herself capable of. But that's the thing about control—no one realizes they're losing it till it's gone. So what's to stop her from losing control again?

She squeezes her eyes shut and hits the bag harder—images of herself hovering over Alison's pained face flashing in her mind as her fists slam into the canvass. She needs to remain in control, she can't let herself get to that point ever again. She punches till her hands throb and her body slumps tiredly against the bag. She'll do better, she has to.

* * *

She keeps to herself the rest of the day, intentionally avoiding the spots where she knows her friends are likely to be in fear of another painfully awkward run-in like the one she had with Aria before school, but Spencer spots her at the end of the day and approaches her at her locker. The last bell has rung and she's making quick work of gathering the books and belongings she needs to bring home with her.

"Hey," Spencer says as she leans back against the locker beside Emily's.

Emily glances at her out of the corner of her eye. "Hey," she echoes.

Despite Emily's obvious moodiness, Spencer presses on casually. "So how's it going?"

Emily scoffs at the absurdity of such a simple question for such a complicated situation. "Aria can't even look at me. Hanna wants to hate me but Ali told her not to. And well, Alison probably wishes I'd get hit by a bus," she says in one breath.

Spencer frowns. "Ali doesn't wish that. But it's gonna take some time for Aria and Hanna to process this."

"Process. There's that word again," Emily says drily.

Spencer raises an eyebrow at Emily's moody mumbling but doesn't question it.

Emily shoves her Math book in her bag and zips it closed. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Because you're my friend?" Spencer answers slowly. "God, you and Alison both have a thing for asking the obvious."

Emily feels a stab of hurt at the words "you and Alison" because there will never be a her and Alison. She fucked that up.

"But you're more protective of Alison than anyone. You should hate me most of all," Emily points out.

Spencer doesn't hesitate in her answer, "I'm protective of all my friends. You included."

Emily shoulders her bag and frowns at the dirty linoleum. "I don't deserve your protection. You should be with Alison right now."

"Well, I probably would be," Spencer admits, "but she's not here right now."

"Yes she is. I saw her this morning."

"She was here but she left sometime before lunch."

"She cut class?" Emily demands incredulously. "She already missed one day this week and a bunch this month. She's never going to graduate if she—" she stops mid-rant, reminding herself that it's not her place to worry about Alison's attendance and that she's the reason the blonde has been avoiding school.

"That's what I plan to tell her when I go by her house after school to yell at her."

"Go easy on her," Emily requests, smiling lightly at the other girl's intensity.

Spencer smirks. "Don't I always?"

Emily cocks her head and shoots Spencer a pointed look. "I'm not convinced you know the meaning of the word easy."

"Easy: Adjective. Achieved without great effort; presenting few difficulties," Spencer recites smugly.

Emily laughs. Genuinely laughs for the first time in weeks.

"So Hanna, Aria and I were talking this afternoon at lunch," Spencer starts after a brief lull in the conversation and Emily can tell from the sudden shift in her friend's voice that the small moment of levity between them is gone.

"And?" Emily asks. She had intentionally skipped lunch knowing that she wouldn't be welcomed at her usual table with her friends, and she guesses that left her friends with plenty of time to discuss what a vile monster she is.

"Well, as I'm sure you know, prom is in a couple of weeks. And I know we were all planning to get ready together at my house and then ride there in the limo together…" Spencer trails off nervously.

Emily sees her typically composed friend struggling to get the words out and decides to put her out of her misery. "But you guys don't want me there now," she finishes knowingly.

Spencer sighs and bites her lip. "It's not that we don't want you there. We just think it might be best that we give everyone a little space—just for the time being—so that we can all heal and move forward."

Emily meets her friend's weak explanation with a roll of her eyes and a snort of derision. "You mean so you guys can move forward without me."

"That's not true. We just need time. Tensions are high right now and everyone's still—"

"Processing," Emily interrupts petulantly. "Yeah. I know. So you're dis-inviting me from prom?"

"We're not dis-inviting you. You can still go to prom. In fact, I hope you do come."

"I just can't go with you guys."

"I'm sorry, Em. We're just trying to avoid any awkwardness." Spencer looks truly apologetic and Emily feels a little bad for being so huffy with her.

"Did Alison say something? Did she tell you guys she doesn't want me there?" Emily asks desperately.

"No," Spencer starts, shaking her head for emphasis. "Ali wasn't at lunch today, but some of us feel that you being there might not be the best idea right now."

"Is _'some of you'_ Aria?" Emily questions, unable to shake the feeling that the petite brunette was likely behind this prom embargo.

Spencer's non-answer is confirmation enough for Emily.

"So does this mean Alison is going to prom?" Emily presses.

Spencer shrugs, rocking back on her heels. "Last we talked about it, she said she was planning to. Bought a dress already and everything."

Emily chews on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. She wasn't even sure she wanted to go to prom, but it still hurts to be excluded. Not just excluded, _banned_. She and her friends had been discussing prom since they were freshmen—when Alison had made them all make a pact to be each other's dates if one of them didn't have someone to escort them, and now she had messed up so badly that she was being intentionally removed from the plan, like some sort of cancerous tumor.

"This doesn't mean we can't hang out together at prom. In fact, you better save me dance," Spencer says, offering Emily a playful grin. "It's just with Alison being there, and after everything she's gone through, we think it'd be best if we…"

"It's fine," Emily cuts her off, not needing to hear the end of whatever lame platitude Spencer was going to feed her. "I get it. I wasn't even planning on going."

Spencer gives her a disappointed look. "Em, come on, don't be like that."

"No, Spencer, it's fine," Emily repeats as if to convince herself. She isn't lying, she had been considering skipping the dance for a while now, so she doesn't know why her chest is hurting and her eyes are burning. Maybe it's the thought that this is the last school dance they'll ever attend together and she's not going to be there. She's not going to be there to see Hanna's intentional bad dancing, or to hear Spencer's rant about the tactlessness of spiked punch and paper streamers, or to see Aria pout about not being able to dance with Ezra while the rest of the group teases her. She's going to miss out on all the silly photos she knows they're going to take, awkward prom pose included of course. She won't be apart of those memories. And she's not going to get to see Alison in her dress. She's not going to get to dance with Alison. Kiss her. Hold her. Tell her how she truly feels about her. Because she fucked everything up and she has to live with that—even if it's killing her inside.


	16. Chapter 16

**_Author's Note: Hey there! So sorry about the ridiculously long delay between chapters but I'm still here! Life has just been really crazy lately and probably will be for the foreseeable future, but I forced myself to sit down and get this chapter done. Full disclosure: I didn't plan to end this chapter where I left it. There was originally quite a bit more but it was getting long and the last part still needs some work and I didn't know when I'd have the time to finish it so I figured I'd get what I have out to you guys now since you've already been so patient with me._**

 ** _And thanks so much for reading and reviewing and for reaching out when it seems I've fallen off the face of the planet and encouraging me to get back to writing._**

 ** _OK bear with me here._**

* * *

Alison can feel him hard against her thigh as he hovers over her, trailing his mouth from her jaw to her neck and then down to her chest as she stares at the ceiling over his shoulder. His kisses are wet and sloppy and his lips taste vaguely of the beer and buffalo wings he consumed during dinner. She arches into him, trying desperately to feel _something, anything,_ but despite her best efforts, she still feels empty.

Strong fingers make quick work of the buttons running down the front of her floral patterned swing dress. A large hand slips inside the fabric and slides over her ribcage to cup her breast. Alison closes her eyes and exhales as a calloused thumb brushes over her lace-covered nipple and she does her best not to recoil.

"Lorenzo," she breathes out between kisses, shifting uncomfortably under his touch. She had been so sure of what she wanted when she texted Lorenzo early this afternoon, but her plan isn't working like she had hoped-in fact this all is only making her feel worse.

Lorenzo groans in response, spurred on by the breathy sound of his name on Alison's lips. He kisses her hungrily on the mouth before sitting up and yanking his shirt up over his head from the back and tossing it aside. Quickly settling back on top of Alison, he kisses her on the mouth again and then buries his head into her shoulder, his open mouth against her neck causing Alison to squirm uncomfortably under the weight of his body. Lorenzo runs a hand up her thigh, slowly pushing up the hem of her dress as his hand drifts higher.

Alison's stomach rolls with unease as his hand nears her center and suddenly she's pushing at his shoulder and sitting up, forcing Lorenzo to sit up as well. "Lorenzo, hold on. We need to stop," she says, breathless and disheveled.

Lorenzo withdraws his hand and stares at Alison with a concerned look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"I can't do this." Alison tugs at the front of her dress and bows her head, her messy blonde hair falling forward to frame her face.

"Was it something I did?" Lorenzo asks.

"No! You're fine. It's me," Alison tries to assure him.

Lorenzo moves a little awkwardly on the bed and Alison cringes as she notices his hand over his crotch as he attempts to discretely adjust his erection.

"Sorry," she mutters, looking away guiltily when he catches her eye.

Lorenzo opens his mouth to speak but Alison turns back abruptly and cuts him off. "I'm sorry, Lorenzo. I wasn't entirely honest before," she admits in a rush. "I didn't change my mind. I'm still not into you like that."

"Then why'd you ask me out?" Lorenzo peers at her thoughtfully, a soft expression on his face.

He's not angry, just curious, and Alison wishes she could sink into the mattress and disappear so she won't have to face disappointing yet another person in her life.

"Because I'm a horrible person," Alison sighs with regret. She didn't mean for things to get this far. Well, technically she did, but she had every intention of following through when she had started.

That had been the whole point of asking Lorenzo out to begin with—to hook up and move on. To get over Emily because she's tired of feeling that same sharp ache in her chest every time she thinks of the brunette. But she couldn't even do that right. She failed yet again and Lorenzo is just the collateral damage of yet another one of her ill-conceived plans. It's like she hasn't changed at all—she's still a tease and a liar—and she still resorts to using and manipulating people for her own personal gain.

"Ali," Lorenzo starts, his voice stern as he implores her to meet his eyes.

Alison looks up guiltily and sees he's still shirtless—having shed his fitted button down the second she had allowed him to round second base—and she chastises herself for not being attracted to his chiseled jaw and toned body. It would be so much easier if she could just fall for him and forget about _her_.

"I'm so sorry, Lorenzo. I'm using you to get over someone else and it's not fair to you," she says sincerely.

"Okay," Lorenzo says slowly before turning and falling on his back beside her with a sigh. "You know, actually," he adds suddenly, propping himself up on his elbows to smirk up at her with an arched eyebrow. "I'm totally okay with you using me. In fact, I think I'd very much enjoy it. Go ahead, use me, baby. Use me till the sun comes up."

Alison laughs softly at his suggestive joke. "I'm not okay with it. I'm not that person anymore."

Lorenzo nods, his expression quickly turning serious. "I know."

"I really am sorry."

"Hey, it's cool," Lorenzo tells her as he sits up again on the mattress. "You don't have to apologize for not doing something you're not into."

"Thank you for understanding." She gives him a small smile and slides out of his bed feeling even worse than she did before she started this.

* * *

"Alison!" a pajama clad Spencer greets her in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry to just show up so late. Are you busy?" Alison asks, her eyes sweeping anxiously around Spencer's backyard as she avoids her friend's questioning gaze.

Traipsing through the yard joining her family's yard with the Hastings' and walking the well-worn path to Spencer's backyard door had once been so familiar a habit that she hardly thought to stop and knock, but suddenly Alison feels uncomfortable seeking comfort from her friend, like she doesn't deserve it. Maybe she never did but that never stopped her from demanding it in the past.

Alison wraps her arms around her middle and shivers slightly in the cool night air, half-expecting Spencer to close the door in her face and tell her to go away.

Spencer looks at her curiously but not unkindly as she ushers Alison inside and leads the blonde to her family's living room. "So what's going on?"

"Just doing my best to make the worst possible decisions," Alison sighs as she falls onto the couch.

Spencer looks her over, taking in her disheveled appearance and ruffled hair. "You didn't go back to Emily did you?" she asks, her eyes narrowing in barely concealed judgment.

Alison's mouth falls open slightly, floundering for the denial that should come easily, but despite not doing what Spencer is accusing her of, she still feels guilty.

"You missed a button," Spencer adds with a subtle nod of her head in answer to Alison's unspoken question.

"No! God no! Of course not. I think I have a little more self-control than that, Spencer," Alison snaps defensively, finally finding her voice. Although she's not so sure she does have the self-control because she'd be lying if she said she hasn't thought of Emily in _that way_ since everything went down. But she knows she shouldn't-she knows she shouldn't be craving Emily's soft lips or the touch of her delicate fingers because she never had those things. She had angry kisses and rough hands and how can she be missing something she never even had.

Spencer purses her lips and takes a moment to study her. "So then what did you do tonight?"

"Lorenzo," Alison groans, rolling her head from side to side as she relives the awkward encounter.

"You had sex with Lorenzo?!" Spencer exclaims loudly, her eyes widening and mouth falling open in shock.

"No! And lower your damn voice!" Alison growls lowly as she shoots Spencer a glare. "I don't need your parents hearing about my sex life. They already think I'm the devil, I don't need them thinking I'm a whore too."

Spencer's forehead creases in confusion and she disappears into the kitchen. A moment later Alison hears the refrigerator door slam shut behind her and Spencer reappears at her side with two bottles of water. Alison takes the bottle from Spencer's outstretched hand and quietly mumbles her thanks.

"So you didn't have sex with Lorenzo?" Spencer asks at a more appropriate vocal level as she takes a seat on the coffee table opposite Alison.

"Almost. I tried," Alison says with a grimace.

"You tried?" Spencer repeats, her eyebrow arching in question. "Did you forget how it works with a man? Because I have some books and a rather detailed diagram from a 5th-grade Biology lesson that might be helpful," Spencer continues through a smirk.

Alison rolls her eyes, unamused by the brunette's attempt at humor. "No I tried to make myself do it and I couldn't. I'm just not interested in him like that." She covers her face with both her hands and shakes her head a few times before letting out a bitter laugh. "God. What the hell is wrong with me, Spence?"

"Nothing is wrong with you," Spencer answers firmly, sounding sure in a way only Spencer Hastings can. "If you're not interested in Lorenzo then you did the right thing by not sleeping with him tonight."

Alison drops her hands away from her face and straightens her back, her blue eyes flashing with something wild and desperate.

"It never mattered before! It didn't matter if I was interested in someone or not—if I had feelings for them or not. None of that mattered before! _Before her._ I did what I needed to! I didn't get caught up on stupid things like feelings!" Alison rants, looking up at the ceiling as she curses the tears welling in her eyes.

"Ali, calm down," Spencer says, leaning forward and resting a comforting hand on Alison's knee as Alison continues to avoid eye contact with the brunette in hopes of hiding her tears. "Why are you trying to make yourself have sex with someone you're not interested in?"

"I just want to go back to the way things used to be. To who I used to be," Alison answers quietly, tipping her head back down to stare at her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. I tried. I tried to be good—to be a better person—but I can't. I can't do this. I can't feel like this anymore," she trails off, shaking her head vigorously.

"Alison," Spencer starts seriously, waiting till she catches Alison's eyes with her own before continuing, " _feeling_ isn't a bad thing. You just have to learn how to deal with your feelings."

"I don't want to deal with them, Spencer! I want them to go away!" Alison snaps before blowing out a breath and forcing her voice to be steady. "I don't want to feel the things I felt with her—without her—-it hurts too much."

"It's going to hurt, Ali. It's going to hurt a lot but you'll get through it."

Alison doesn't bother to hide the fact that she's crying now, finally letting the tears roll freely down her cheeks as she speaks through clenched teeth. "It's like I gave her permission to rip my heart out and she did. She fucking did. That's what happens when you develop feelings for someone, you give them the power to hurt you. And they will hurt you, Spencer. They'll destroy you and you'll just be the idiot who let them."

Spencer frowns at her friend's bitterness. "It's not always like that. Not with everyone. You have to trust the person you fall for won't abuse that power."

"She wasn't supposed to," Alison whispers.

Spencer remains quiet, gazing back at Alison with soft understanding eyes that urge Alison to continue.

"I can't get her out of my head, Spence. No matter how hard I try, I can't stop thinking about her—about what she did," Alison confesses shakily through her tears. "And every time I think about it, I'm back in my room with her and it _hurts_. It fucking hurts so much and I'm so _angry_ with her for doing this to me, to us, I feel like I can't _breathe_." She pauses, shaking her head and digging her palms into her thighs as she tries to force the memory from her mind. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. I know I've messed up more times than I can even begin to count and I don't deserve good things, I deserve to suffer, but she _destroyed_ us."

Alison pauses, hiccuping and taking sharp short breaths as feelings of regret assault her.

Spencer leans forward to brush the tears from her cheeks with her thumb. "You do deserve good things, Ali. You're not the person you used to be."

"I know I shouldn't but I still think about her all the time. I miss her," Alison confesses. "I wish I could forget about it-about her-but its like the universe won't let me. She's everywhere. Even tonight when I was in bed with Lorenzo, I still couldn't get her out of my head."

Spencer squeezes her knee sympathetically. "What happened tonight, Ali?" she prods carefully.

Alison takes a deep breath and looks away from Spencer's expectant eyes. "I asked Lorenzo to hang out tonight because I knew he was into me and I knew he'd want to have sex. And of course he did—because let's face it that's pretty much all I'm good for," she trails off bitterly.

"Alison," Spencer cuts in.

"Don't," Alison brushes Spencer off before the other girl can begin to lecture her on her self-worth. "We went out for dinner and he invited me back to his apartment and I thought _okay—good. I could do this._ I just have to do it and then I can finally put what happened with Emily behind me and move on. I thought I could erase her touch with his."

"Did you really think that would work?" Spencer asks, trying and failing to hide the slight frown on her face as she listens to Alison recount her night.

Alison lowers her head in shame and shrugs, she can practically feel the disappointment radiating from her friend. "I thought maybe for a little while. I knew it wouldn't work forever but I thought if I could get her out of my head for even just a little while, it'd be worth it."

"Ali, maybe you should talk to someone—a professional. To help you sort out your feelings about everything you've been through. Not just the stuff with Emily but everything else too," Spencer says gently as if she's afraid her words might break Alison.

Alison notes her friend's grim expression and sympathetic eyes and clenches her jaw in frustration because she doesn't need pity or therapy, she just needs to get Emily out of her head.

"I don't want to sort out my feelings! I want them to go away! I want to feel nothing like I used to!" Alison snaps, her voice rising and her eyes flashing darkly before she exhales a ragged breath. "That's why I asked Lorenzo out. He's nice and safe. And he doesn't mean anything to me—not the way she does," she trails off, before fixing her eyes on Spencer and adding, "Because I _refuse_ to feel that way ever again. I won't give anyone else that power over me. _Never again_."

"Ali, having meaningless sex with random people isn't going to erase the pain of what Emily did to you. She hurt you and it's okay to feel that hurt. You need to feel it if you're ever truly going to move on," Spencer says, her voice remaining calm despite Alison's growing agitation.

"I do feel it. I feel it all the time and I'm so tired, Spencer. I'm so tired of thinking about Emily. I just want to get her out of my mind and go back to normal," Alison sighs, thankful for the steady way Spencer responds to her spiraling.

"Lorenzo is normal for you?" Spencer questions.

Alison shrugs. "He's not her and that's all that matters."

"Do you still want to be with her? With Emily?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. Maybe," Alison says, frustrated with her traitorous feelings. "I know I shouldn't. It's sick. I'm sick. I shouldn't want to be with Emily. I should want to be with someone different—someone like Lorenzo."

She shouldn't want to be with Emily, she knows that—she tells herself that whenever she catches herself thinking about the brunette or trying to catch a glimpse of her in school. She shouldn't want to be with someone who hurt her, someone who made her feel powerless and worthless—but it's _Emily_. She can't just turn off her feelings for the one person in the world she thinks she might actually love.

"Why should you want to be with Lorenzo?" Spencer asks, and Alison hates the tone she uses. Like it's more of a challenge than a question.

"What do you mean _why_? Isn't it obvious?" Alison demands. She's tired of being put on the spot, of having to explain herself. As grateful as she is for Spencer right now, she wishes Spencer could _understand_ without interrogating. Spencer is great, she's been a consistent source of comfort over the last few weeks, but she's not Emily. Spencer doesn't understand her the way Emily understands her.

Spencer arches an eyebrow. "Because he's a guy?"

"No!" Alison denies empathically. "Because he's nice, and he's attractive, and he doesn't think I'm human garbage. Not yet at least," she explains. "And because he _stops_ when I say to," she adds with a sad laugh.

"Look, Ali," Spencer starts, fixing the blonde with a thoughtful look. "I'm glad you realize you need to be with someone who respects you and your boundaries, but throwing yourself into bed with the nearest warm body isn't going to magically fix anything. You need to let Emily go and mourn her loss from your life."

She knows she can't be with Emily, shouldn't want to at least, but Spencer's words sound so permanent, and the thought of Emily being permanently gone from her life makes her heart clench painfully in her chest. She doesn't want a life without Emily. She doesn't want to mourn the loss of Emily from her life. She doesn't want to move on from her.

"And Ali," Spencer continues, breaking Alison out of her debilitating thoughts, "after you do that, you need to figure out what made you accept that kind of treatment from her in the first place, or you'll be doomed to repeat the same patterns with the next person."

Alison doesn't want there to be a next person. She wants Emily to be that person—her person—forever—and she hates herself for being so weak and pathetic, for being the kind of person who craves the source of her pain.

"Why do I have to let her go? Why can't we fix things between us? She said she was sorry. Doesn't that count for something? We could try. I could forgive her," Alison cries, desperate eyes looking to Spencer for assurance she knows she won't find.

Spencer presses her lips together, her voice soft but stern when she speaks, "Because some things are meant to stay broken."

"I don't think I'm ready to let her go, Spencer," Alison whispers, her voice straining as she swallows the lump in her throat and blinks back the tears in her eyes.

"You'll get there. You've gotten through a lot worse."

* * *

"So Ezra's going to meet us at Spencer's barn after prom," Aria announces as she, Alison, Spencer, and Hanna make their way through the halls of Rosewood High the following morning.

Hanna gives her friend a sympathetic pout. "It sucks he can't come. Everyone deserves a chance to dance with their beau at prom."

"He's not my beau. We're just friends," Aria insists.

"Same difference," Hanna mutters.

Alison feels a dull ache of pain in her chest as she pictures herself dancing with Emily at prom, or, well, not dancing with Emily. She imagines herself in Emily's arms, the two of them moving together in big beautiful gowns, twirling in circles and laughing as they hold each other. Emily looked absolutely gorgeous at the last dance they attended together and it had killed Alison that they weren't on good terms at the time and she couldn't share a dance with the brunette. Prom was supposed to be different, it was supposed to be their chance.

"He could always come as a chaperone," Spencer smirks, playfully nudging Aria with her shoulder as the four of them walk.

"He doesn't even teach anymore," Aria shoots back with a roll of her eyes. The girls make their first stop at Spencer's locker and pause to allow Spencer to get what she needs.

"What if he wears one of those masks as a disguise? Like at a masquerade ball? Then no one will know he used to teach here!" Hanna suggests brightly.

"I'm not sneaking Ezra into prom," Aria says drily. "I'll just see him after. Besides, the afterparty is where all the fun is to be had anyway."

"Hell yeah, it is!" Hanna agrees. "We're gonna party our faces off. Right, Ali?"

Alison looks up at the sound of her name, having lost her place in the conversation when thoughts of Emily entered her head. She tries and fails to stifle a yawn as the others look at her expectantly. Next time she asks a guy out and goes back to his place to not have sex she'll make sure it's not on a school night. "Hmm?"

"Prom. You're coming back to Spencer's barn for the afterparty, right?" Hanna prompts.

"I don't know," Alison starts hesitantly. Prom is going to be hard enough to get through, she doubts she'll be much in the partying mood after spending a whole evening watching happy couples drool all over each other.

"Come on, Ali, you have to come," Hanna whines. "Graduation is in a few weeks and this might be one of our last chances to all hang out together and let loose. We have to have one last barn blowout before we all go off to college next year."

But they're not all together, Alison thinks.

"When have any of our get-togethers been big enough to qualify as a blowout?" Spencer asks.

"Don't say 'get-togethers', Spence, you sound like my grandmother," Hanna interjects as the group starts walking again, this time towards Alison's locker.

"Is Emily going to be there?" Alison asks, cutting Spencer off mid-retort and effectively silencing the group.

Hanna, Aria and Spencer stop and exchange glances and Alison can't help but feel like they've been talking about her behind her back.

"No. We thought it'd be best if she did her own thing that night," Aria explains carefully.

Alison chews her lip guiltily. "Does she know?"

"Yeah. I spoke to her about it," Spencer answers.

Alison nods and continues to walk, unsure of what else to say.

"There will, however, be a ton of booze," Hanna chimes in, trying to lighten the mood. "It'll be great. We can party till we throw up in Mrs. Hastings' rose bushes."

"Charming visual, Hanna," Spencer quips. "And my mom grows azaleas."

"Whatever," Hanna mumbles.

"Why don't you ask Lorenzo to prom, Ali," Aria suggests suddenly.

And she looks so damn sincere Alison almost feels bad for physically recoiling from the idea. Alison catches Spencer's eye before shaking her head with a barely discernible grimace. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

Aria seems to catch on to something being up but mercifully lets it go. "Oh! I know! You can go with me!" she squeals excitedly instead.

"I am going with you, Aria. I'm going with all you because Hanna nagged me till my head hurt and you forced me to buy that ridiculous yellow gown at that boutique," Alison says as she yanks her locker door open.

"No. I mean you can be my date. We'll be each other's dates. I'm not seeing anyone and you're not seeing anyone. It'll be fun!"

Alison presses her lips together and shakes her head at her overly enthusiastic friend. "That's really not necessary."

"Come on, please," Aria pouts. "I'll even buy you a corsage."

Alison can't help but chuckle at the idea of Aria slipping a corsage on her wrist. "Fine. Whatever. I'll be your date," she concedes. Maybe Aria's company will be enough to distract her from thinking about Emily all night.

"Good! It's settled then. You're my date," Aria declares happily. "And get ready, because I'm going to show you a _real good time, sweetheart._ "

Alison shakes her head with a laugh and turns to shut her locker. As she turns her head she catches sight of Emily's big brown eyes staring at her from further down the hallway. She's so surprised to see the brunette that a small gasp escapes her lips and she slams the locker door shut loudly, drawing the attention of her friends.

"Come on, let's get to class before Mr. Wilcox writes us up," Aria says, her eyes trained on Emily as she gently guides Alison by the arm away from Emily's gaze. Hanna and Spencer follow quietly behind them, all three having noticed Alison's sudden shift in mood at the sight of Emily.

* * *

It's fifteen minutes into Mr. Wilcox's fourth-period Calculus class when Alison decides she's had enough. She can't possibly stand to hear another word about exponential growth or rate of change or any of the other mathematical nonsense the teacher is babbling about. Her mind has been racing since she locked eyes with Emily in the hallway, completely preoccupied with thoughts of the brunette, and she needs to do _something_ to get herself under control again.

Her fingers tap out the words faster than her mind can process them and before she can stop herself she's hitting send and asking to be excused from class.

Spencer is wrong. She doesn't need to mourn Emily's loss from her life. She needs to fix things. Too many things in her life are broken and it's time she starts putting the pieces back together.

She feels Aria's curious gaze on her as she leaves the classroom but she doesn't dare look back at the tiny brunette, not needing to meet Aria's big green eyes to picture the judgment they likely hold.

Despite her determined pace, her conviction starts to waver when she pictures her friends' disapproving faces. There's no way Spencer, Hanna or Aria would understand why she has to do this, but she has to try. She doesn't want to disappoint them but she has to fix this.

Emily is there waiting for her when she arrives and Alison wastes no time gliding across the length of the bathroom and closing the gap between them.

Emily's face registers her surprise but before she can speak, Alison is grasping her head in her hands and catching her lips with her own.

 _"Ali,"_ Emily breathes into the kiss.


End file.
